Tangled Web of Fate
by moonlit.nocturne
Summary: Fast forward 10 years into the Meiji; Sokusai finds Shinomori Aoshi alone in the mountains. The encounter throws her into a world of bitter coincidences, where she meets new faces and is haunted by the old. Sequel of Legends of the Age. Please R&R!
1. Prologue

**Tangled Web of Fate**

Fanfiction based off of: Rurouni Kenshin

Original Story: Watsuki Nobuhiro

**Prologue**

She sat sleeping gently against the corner of hut, a habit of hers that she never quite got rid of over the course of ten years. A moonbeam illuminated her china-doll face, showing off dark bangs that ran to her brow. Long dark strands of hair ran over her shoulders in a loose braid that fell to her waist. Her pale arm was clamped subconsciously around the metal sheath of a katana, her right hand laying in a position that could reach the hilt of the blade in a moment's notice. She was wearing loose red robes and black leggings, the style that most men wore those days. Her bandaged chest rose and fell with every breath in a consistent rhythm.

There was an abrupt knock on the door. Her eyes snapped open immediately. Though she could not have been more than her mid-twenties, her dark eyes shone with understanding and maturity, having seen more blood shed than most people twice her age. She stood up, her left hand clasped over her blade, as she walked quickly over to the door.

"Who is it?" she asked in a tone so soft that it sparked with danger.

"We're here for our money, pretty lady," a coarse voice cackled. "We've seen you here and there, with all those bags, and we know that you're alone! You're no match for us, girlie!"

The door slammed open and she briefly counted ten men, all armed.

"You're no match for us!" the leader repeated, grinning. "You better surrender all your money to us, and come with us quietly! I bet our boss would give us a good heap of cash to us for you!"

She moved deftly and without signal. Her knee connected with the leader's stomach, sending him flying into two of his subordinates and crashing into the open. The group of men immediately stepped back from the door as she stepped into the moonlight. Her dark, cold eyes gleamed as she spoke in the same soft tone, "Do you wish for your lives?"

The men looked uncertainly at each other, and gained confidence as they reminded each other that the opponent was one lone woman. They ran at her with a yell, blades raised over their heads.

She stepped forward with assurance, her blade flashing only twice before those that were before her fell to the ground, dead. She stared intently at the leader.

"Are you sure you still want to stay?" she asked, a hint of a smirk creeping onto her face.

"Are you mocking me, lady?!" he roared. "I'm not like those useless weaklings!"

He ran at her wildly, with no type of formation or style. She caught his blade between her fingers, amused at the surprised eyes of her older opponent.

"Sorry," she said with an apologetic smile, "you asked for it."

Her hilt of her blade rammed into his stomach with such force that he was sent crashing into the trees, unconscious.

"Please take him as well as your dead friends," she said, addressing the astonished remaining two, "and be off this mountain by dawn. If I should find you…" She smirked.

"Wah—we'll be gone, lady, long gone!!"

They ran before her like scared children, carrying the bodies over their shoulders and racing away.

The dangerous woman wiped her sword and sheathed it after their departure. She began to head inside when she heard a branch crack behind her. Grabbing a bow and quiver from nearby the door, she whipped around and notched the arrow.

It was the leader, bloody in the head and stumbling here and there, quite unstable. He looked pitifully humiliated, and was roaring with the fervor of a mortified man.

"Who are you, lady?!" he bellowed. "Tell me your name, so I can track you down and kill you one day without hesitation!"

"There won't be another day," she said curtly, and let the arrow fire, lodging itself into his throat. He fell back with a thud, blood streaming from his throat.

She let out a breath, disgusted, and turned to go back in. Opening the door, her lovely profile slipped gently into the darkness of the room, blending in perfectly with the cool night.

The moon shone gently on the back of a being whose existence began under it. For the rest of the night, the legendary Sokusai slept peacefully under a white moon.


	2. Okashira

**Chp. 1: Okashira**

Kikome woke to the bright sun filling up the room with its yellow glow. She stretched and yawned, stopping abruptly when she felt a presence outside the small hut. She stood up and readied her katana. With an easy push, she opened the wooden door and looked outside.

A young man about her own age was sitting against a tree, apparently sleeping. There were a few wounds across his chest, bleeding profusely. She strolled over to him and bent down to get a better look at his face when he suddenly looked up at her, startled. Well, apparently not sleeping.

There was an awkward pause as Kikome surveyed the man in front of her. Dark black hair shadowed his bright green eyes that glinted with an intense inner ferocity. He wore a long white cloak over his dark purple outfit, a long sheath gripped in his gloved hand. Kikome recognized the style of his clothes; he was most definitely from Kyoto, and had the bearings of a ninja. The sword in his hand, however, was abnormally long, not what one would expect from a shinobi.

"Yo," she finally said, breaking the silence.

He narrowed his eyes as he glanced at the Japanese katana she had in her black gloved hand.

"Were you the one that killed those few bandits last night?" he asked brusquely, having glimpsed the corpse lying among the trees.

"If I was," she said simply, straightening up, "would you have a problem with that?"

"Not personally," he said, also standing up. His hand moved nimbly to his blade.

Within a second's time, he had whipped out two shorter swords from the long sheath. Kikome blocked one with her blade, the other with her sheath, startled by the stranger's curt demeanor and angry at his sudden attack. She glimpsed his leg coming toward her stomach and quickly flipped over him, dodging the kick.

A martial artist as well. There was no doubting it now; this man was a full-fledged ninja, and one of the elite. Quite odd of him to attack her in broad daylight, but she didn't suspect anyone was on the mountain anyway.

"What do you want?" she demanded harshly.

He swayed a bit from side to side, the wounds obviously affecting his balance.

"Power," he said, almost to himself. "I need…to become…stronger. For…the Oniwabanshuu…"

Oniwabanshuu. An elite organization of ninja that protected the Edo castle during the war. Perhaps that was why he was in Tokyo now. His weapons were kodachis, a cross between a dagger and a katana, mainly used for defense.

"Hey, look here, you're hurt pretty badly," Kikome remarked. "If you keep fighting with those wounds, you're going to end up killing yourself."

The wounded man looked at her fixedly, and without a word, collapsed.

"Hey! Don't die in front of my door! _Hey!_"

*****************

A few hours later…

The man stirred gently and finally opened his bright green eyes. Gingerly feeling the bandages around his chest, he sat up to face the person that just treated him. She was surprisingly young; she looked no older than twenty. Her long black hair was tied up in a high ponytail with a crimson ribbon that matched her uniform.

"Well, looks like you're finally up," she commented dryly.

"Why did you help me?" he asked, bemused.

"Killing somebody who just dropped down unconscious by my doorstep would leave a bad taste in my mouth," she replied with amusement. "Better to bandage you up and send you away."

"Who are you?" he demanded.

She wagged a finger at him. "Unh-unh, I'm the one asking questions. In fact, who are _you_? I know that you're a shinobi from the Oniwabanshuu, so try not to make anything up," she added at his hesitant look.

The man looked at her, surprised at her commanding disposition.

"My name is Shinomori Aoshi," he said, his eyes emitting a piercing glow. "I am…I was…the okashira of the Oniwabanshuu."

"Okashira, eh?" she said, apparently pleased that she had gotten a response. "So why are you here in the lonely mountains of Tokyo?"

Aoshi did not answer, but instead averted his eyes from her intimidating black eyes. He could not help but notice that she was extremely attractive, despite her rather younger appearance.

"You don't want to tell me?" she laughed. "Well, I suppose nobody would tell a complete stranger why they've fallen from grace."

"So why don't you tell me who you are then?" he snapped. "I have exchanged more information than necessary; perhaps you should exchange the same."

"My name, you mean?" she questioned, no longer smiling. "We're never going to see each other again, so why bother?"

"Then what was the point of asking me in the first place?"

"Because _you_ were the one who tried to kill _me_ first. _I_ was protecting myself, and therefore have no obligation of any kind to tell you anything. At the very least, you could repay your rather generous benefactor by telling her your name and occupation." She smiled shrewdly.

What a rather vain woman. Then again, she had quite a good reason to be slightly arrogant; her excellent swordplay and insight from before were not to be underestimated. Not to mention her striking looks.

"But since you did tell me a few personal things, I will as well," she continued. "Let's see…I live up here alone and manage by robbing bandits of their money."

"…"

"I arrived in Tokyo a couple years ago…hm…oh, and I suppose that it would be safe to tell you that I'm twenty-five," she smiled wryly.

Twenty-five?! Aoshi's eyes reflected surprise. She didn't look a day older than twenty, but then again, her demeanor and actions were those of a mature woman that knew what she was doing. He supposed that her age was plausible in relationship to her personality.

But her talk revealed more than her age. The fact that she robbed bandits up in this desolate area meant that she was extremely skilled. Even Aoshi himself had a bit of trouble with some of these robbers. Having said that she arrived in _Tokyo_ instead of _Edo,_ she had probably come in recent years, after the city had been addition, she had said the it would be 'safe' to tell him his age, which meant she was most likely did not wish to be found.

This woman was different. She was strong, she had worth, she had value. Not like the senseless bandits that he had been fighting recently. The air of which she conducted herself made those bandits that had given him wounds seem worthless. Defeating her would truly make him stronger.

Aoshi stood up abruptly. The woman raised an eyebrow.

"Tell me, what would you do if I struck you down right here?" he asked quietly.

She narrowed her eyes, a dark and untrusting expression gathering in them.

"You wouldn't be able to."


	3. Alone

**Chp. 2: Alone**

Kikome strolled quietly through the forests, a bucket of water in each hand and her sword secured around her waist. Her guest had not left, nor did it seem like he had any intention to. She did not mind. It had been a while since she had company, and she enjoyed the constant presence of her guest, despite his sullen personality. He was an antisocial figure, and yet she felt strangely calm around his quiet demeanor.

She approached the hut only to see him walk out.

"Do you need something?" she inquired with a smile, setting down the water.

"I want to know your identity," he said harshly.

"My identity?" she laughed. "It's seriously nothing special."

She noticed his eyes darken and his hand move inconspicuously to his weapons. In a flash, he whipped out his kodachi and swept them towards her, only for them to meet her sheath and for her blade to be at his neck.

"You should control yourself," she said quietly, eyes flashing. "There's no way you can beat me as you are. That temper of yours is really unsettling."

She withdrew her blade and sheathed it, once again all charms and smiles.

"Now would you like something to eat?" Kikome asked, beckoning inside. "And after you do, please be on your way."

Aoshi looked at her with annoyance. "Tell me who you are."

She gave him a mysterious smile. "Perhaps later."

**************

Aoshi sat quietly against the wall as the woman prepared the meal.

"Just some stew and such," she said tranquilly. "But nevertheless filling."

"Who are you?" he asked again. "There's no way you're 'nothing special.' Your skill proves it."

"Why I'm flattered," she replied as she picked up a knife and began to peel potatoes, placing them in a pot of boiling water. "But I'm not obliged to tell you."

"Equivalent exchange of information," he retaliated. "It's fair. Even if your past is dark, it can't be much darker than mine."

"Really now? So you think you've seen the ends of the world with…what exactly did you see the ends of the world with?"

Aoshi felt a pang of extreme annoyance. "You expect me to answer your question when I've been asking you the same one for days without answer?"

"Fine, I'll make you a deal. Tell me what happened and I'll tell you who I am."

Aoshi frowned. "That doesn't seem very equal."

"I'll give your lunch to the birds and bears then."

He sighed. "As I've said before, I've come from Tokyo. I worked under an entrepreneur by the name of Takeda Kanryuu with four subordinates of mine, striving to earn the name of the strongest."

She scoffed. "Meaningless."

He glared at her and continued. "In Tokyo, we came across some news that Hitokiri Battousai was there, living in a small dojo."

She stopped staring at the stew and looked at him, eyes cold and alarmed.

"Battousai?" she asked more to herself than to him. "He's in Tokyo? Doing what?"

"He's made friends with a local dojo master and a doctor who was forced to make opium under Kanryuu. Do you personally know him?"

"Friends?" she said softly, not listening to Aoshi. "What the hell…how is able to still make _friends_, just what did he do to himself…" She turned to Aoshi. "Is he still good? His swordplay. Does he still fight well?" she snapped.

The terse words and ever-darkening eyes embodied the deep bitterness reflected in her soul. She must have had some connection with him. If she heard the vendetta he had declared against the Battousai, then perhaps she would help him…

"His swordplay is worthy of being the strongest. However, since the Bakamatsu, he has sworn not to kill. He carries a sakabatou, to repent for the sins he has committed."

"Are you serious?" she asked in a mixture of shock and insane amusement. She gave a weak laugh and turned back to the pot, not seeing the stew but instead withdrawing deeper in her mind. There was a silence that Aoshi dared not break.

"He's become so weak," she finally said with disgust. "That childish naïveté will have made him so weak…so unworthy of Hiten Mitsurugii. How did you and your subordinates fare against him? Was he wounded badly in your fights?"

"…I came close to killing him. Hannya and the others at least hit a few blows."

"Were you as strong as you are now?"

"…No."

She ladled the soup out with such curtness that it slopped all over the floor. She slammed the bowl in front of him and went straight out the door. Aoshi stared after her, watching her slim profile until it stopped a few yards away. Her shoulders were moving up and down in a rhythmic motion—she was taking deep breaths to calm herself down.

He followed her outside and stood behind her.

"My subordinates were killed by Kanryuu. I am going to bring the title of the strongest to the grave, and I will acquire it by defeating the Battousai."

He saw her body become still and stiff.

"Now, will you tell me your name?"

*************

Anger, fury, waves of pain, memories, and jealousy were sweeping through Kikome's veins. She thought she had put away the grudge she had harbored against Kenshin since she saw him kill Tomoe, but no, to hear that he was trying to shame the name of Hiten Mitsurugii by being almost being defeated by this okashira was too much to handle. And to hear that he had made _friends_? It was the same thing as before, when Kenshin lived with Tomoe happily while she was on a rampage hunting down Shindou. The same anger merged with feelings of loneliness, of hopelessness, of grief. She had been alone for the last ten years, while he found happiness once again.

Aoshi's question brought her down to earth. If she told him now, he would surely hate, no, despise her. She was the same, a hitokiri, though not on the same side, but with the same techniques nevertheless. But she had promised. There was no need to break it. If he left, so be it, it would just be the same loneliness again.

She turned around slowly and looked up in his green eyes, the most startling attribute of his handsome face.

"My name is Nato Kikome, also known as Sokusai. I was a hitokiri and an ally of the Shinsengumi."

Watching his eyes become clouded with distrust and fear, Kikome felt her chest tighten as her mind unconsciously thought, _Don't leave me alone_.


	4. Chance

**Chp. 3: Chance**

Aoshi's first reaction upon hearing her identity was to draw away in wariness and distrust. And yet when he looked at her face, he saw a look of fear and utmost pain pass in her facial features. Her veneer had cracked in the face of the prospect of being hated. Despite her strength, despite her maturity, this woman still held the burdens of the past in her heart, ones that she tried to lock away and forget but still clung to.

He became aware that one of her hands was clutching his jacket; her whole body was shaking slightly but enough to perceive her unwillingness for him to find out who she was.

Aoshi almost felt that he had done wrong in asking her identity. It was something that she did not want to face, and to hear about Battousai, whatever their relationship was, had doubled her distress.

A long, awkward silence ensued. Aoshi felt a crack in the ice that he had encompassed around his emotions when he saw the slender fingers clutching on to his jacket like a lifeline. She was looking at the ground now, still as a statue.

But Sokusai! Her? Of all the legends during the war, Sokusai was the most obscure. Though known by most of the public and political figures, attempts to capture him inevitably failed and information about him was sparse. And to think that the "him" was a "her"! It was an answer that Aoshi had not expected. Nevertheless, she was strong. Aoshi needed someone as strong as she to help him train and surpass Battousai. She was necessary.

"I…see…" he said awkwardly. She suddenly looked up at him at the sound of his voice, as if she had forgotten that he was there. He heard her take in a sharp breath and felt her release his jacket. She stepped back with embarrassment in her face.

"S-sorry," she said, averting her gaze from his face. "I just…lost myself. I…"

Her voice trailed away as she continued looking another way, breathing so softly it seemed that she wasn't breathing at all.

"Ah…you should probably finish your lunch," she said quietly. "And please be on your way after that."

Aoshi started. "You want me to leave?"

She gave him a look. "You don't?"

He looked at her with determination. "Help me train," he demanded. "You're necessary for me to defeat Battousai."

"I don't exist for your personal vendetta against him," she said skeptically. "Kill him, or die in the process, it's a blatantly stupid thing to do. Whether it's for revenge or whatnot, just drop it."

She tossed her hair gently over her shoulder and walked back towards the hut.

Aoshi had never been annoyed more by anyone.

*************

It was ironic that she was telling him to "just drop" his revenge. Had Master not told her the same thing ten years ago? And yet, she had not heeded his words, and look where she was now, in the mountains with no solace except through her blade. It was even more embarrassing to have been holding on to him for so long. He was a stranger, a man whom she had not met until two days ago, and yet he had brought enough charisma and startling information to shock her out of her normal composure.

She hated herself even more for feeling the fear of being alone.

They ate in silence. Kikome could feel Aoshi's piercing green eyes bore into the side of her face.

"What?" she finally asked.

"I'm not leaving until you agree to help me."

"Alright, I agree to help you, now leave."

"…"

She heaved a sigh as pushed her now empty bowl aside and plopped against the wall.

"Say I do help you. What would I do? I know nothing about the Oniwabanshuu and its ninja abilities or techniques. I would be unable to help you train."

"I already know the concepts and precisely how to execute each movement. All I need is for you to fight me and counterstrike so I know exactly how to rebuff each counterattack."

"So I'm like a guinea pig?"

"…Somewhat."

Kikome stared at him. He was really dense. She had no intention of becoming a guinea pig for his training. Training meant getting hurt; she had had enough of that from Master. But he looked at her intently, green eyes flashing like polished emeralds. Kikome felt her resolution weaken as she gazed at his perfectly sculptured face.

"Fine…I help," she said unwillingly.

Aoshi's eyes lit up. Though he barely cracked a smile, he said sincerely, "Thanks."

They trained for days, weeks. It had been so long since Kikome had fought like this, with someone who was actually skilled, not the senseless idiots who constantly came for money. And yet the better Aoshi grew, the more worried Kikome became. Would he leave after he was finished? Would she be left alone again? The hesitation left her agitated and annoyed at herself. It was close to the same dependency that she had on Souzou, someone whom she had never forgotten.

It had been two months since Aoshi had come. He sat in the shade of a giant oak tree as he meditated quietly, gathering energy for the morning training. Kikome sat from afar and watched as his body grew still and his mind became nothing. Her heart beat slightly faster and she could feel the blood rush to her cheeks. She rested her head on her knees.

Was it possible that she had fallen for him? Like she had fallen for Souzou? The two were so different…Souzou had been so kind, so openly loving, a man who smiled at all and whose peaceful appearance caught onto all around him. As for Aoshi…he was brutally antisocial, demanding, and never gave a smile. But Kikome felt the same dependency on Aoshi, a feeling of contentment when she was around him and a fear of him leaving.

Aoshi walked over and tapped her gently on the shoulder. She looked up at his jade-colored eyes.

"Are you ready?" he asked, beckoning to the open field.

Kikome smiled serenely at him. "Yeah."

*************

Her smile shone through him, differently from the shallow ones she had given him before. She looked more…whole, radiating an even more beautiful aura than she did when he first met her. Aoshi, driven by revenge, had sealed up his heart and emotions, leaving behind everything. Yet being around this woman caused cracks to appear in his stone heart, and oftentimes he caught himself staring at her unintentionally.

Aoshi watched as her as she prepared her stance. She drew her katana with grace and style; it gleamed in the sunlight and reflected a light in her eyes. No, it was time to fight, not watch. He drew his kodachi and prepared for Kaiten Kenbu Rokuren. Six times slashing with a backhand grip on each kodachi. He saw her lower her sword and her eyes gleam as she studied her every movement. Her eyes always looked different when she fought. They became alive, flashing with contained ferocity and perceptive of even the slightest movement.

Aoshi attacked. Two, four, six slashes consecutively. She blocked each one, using both her katana as well as her sheath. Her style was extremely different from Battousai's; it had more of a lilt, an innate flourish from a style of her own. She propelled herself upwards, flipped in midair, and with the increased energy and speed, she came towards him with her blade ready. Aoshi blocked the blade with his two kodachi but stepped back from the force of the attack. Regaining his footing, he aimed a kick at her stomach. She anticipated his move used her sword to flip behind him, automatically turning around for a counterattack. He blocked it with one kodachi while he spun the other towards her. She blocked with her sheath; Aoshi took the opportunity to aim for another kick. Kikome dodged but lost her footing, tripping Aoshi as she fell.

He fell on top of her, cursing. Aoshi suddenly became aware of how close he was to her. She was panting slightly, with small beads of perspiration gathering on her pale neck. She looked strangely vulnerable, with her features even more striking from up close.

"I…almost had that," Aoshi panted.

She smiled again, that same, beautiful smile. "Yeah, you almost did."

He couldn't stop himself. He leaned towards her and kissed her gently, a long, soft, yet passionate kiss. He felt her fingers run through his hair, caressing it tenderly. They broke apart and he stared into her eyes, the deep, all-knowing dark color that drew him in. He kissed her again, and they stayed in the position for minutes that stretched for eternities.

Meeting her, one lone person in an isolated mountain, was a chance among millions. It must have been fate.


	5. Use

**Chp. 4: Use**

Kikome laid against Aoshi's chest and watched as the night grew darker. She had left the door open to let the moonlight illuminate the small room. Aoshi's breathed evenly against her ear; he had fallen asleep an hour before, his arms embraced around her shoulders. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping, different from how he looked when he was awake and fighting.

Maybe she had rushed herself headlong into the arms of another man because of her loneliness. It had only been a few months since she met him. And despite the short time, she had felt the same security around him as when she was around Souzou. Kikome looked at the starry sky and wondered if Souzou was looking at her now. She did not feel that she had betrayed him; she had mourned for him for ten years. He would always remain inside her, with her, and represent her persona from the past.

Aoshi stirred gently in his sleep and opened his eyes. Kikome turned around.

"Ah…sorry, did I wake you up?" she asked softly.

He moved his hand up to her neck, caressing it lightly.

"No, it's alright." He pulled her close to him and pulled aside her hair, exposing her nape. Kikome could feel his lips trailing up the back of her neck, sending shudders down her spine.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Aoshi asked quietly. His hands slipped craftily under her robes, slipping them off to expose her bare shoulders. His fingertips danced along the surface of her skin, enjoying the warmth.

"The sky's too beautiful to sleep without looking at it," she replied, looking up at the star-scattered universe. She became aware that he was fiddling with the bandages around her chest.

"Aoshi-san," she said warningly.

He kissed her back one last time and drew her robes over her shoulders. "As you wish," he sighed. "Shouldn't you sleep now? It's quite late."

She stayed silent for a while, pondering on whether or not to say aloud the insecure question that lingered in her mind.

"Aoshi-san."

"Hm?"

"Do you…still want me to train you?" she asked hesitatingly.

She felt his grip tighten around her shoulders.

"Obviously," he said, his silky voice suddenly rough. "Why do you ask?"

Kikome chewed her lower lip, unwilling to say what was on her mind.

"Nothing," she finally said. "Let's sleep."

The darkness closed in around the stars, and suddenly they shone less brightly. The moon illuminated the mountain and the hut. Sokusai laid awake under the moonbeam, restless.

*************

Aoshi woke with a start. The sun was high in the sky—he had slept dreamlessly, better than he had ever since he had left Kanryuu's mansion. One quick look around the room confirmed that he was alone. He strode outside, looking for her. She approached him, hair damp and draped across her shoulders.

"Good morning," she said pleasantly, running a finger through her hair. "I just finished taking a bath." She motioned behind her, in the forest. "There's a small waterfall back there that works wonderfully."

She looked incredibly beautiful and much more mature with her hair down, spherical water droplets dampening her robes. Aoshi was lost for words.

"Aoshi-san?" She tilted her head, looking up at him. "Something wrong?"

He blinked and shook his head, clearing his thoughts of the suddenly very feminine beauty in front of him.

"It's…nothing," he managed to say. "I'm…going to go bathe as well."

She nodded and once again gestured in the direction of the bath. "I'll take care of the meal, so take your time."

Aoshi found himself at the site soon enough, the water sparkling in a small lake, so clear that the jagged rocks at the floor of the lake were visible. He undressed himself fairly quickly and proceeded to the waterfall.

Aoshi sat under the waterfall, eyes closed, taking pleasure in the thundering sound of the rushing water past his ears. It was a distraction from the picture that constantly resurfaced in his mind, the loveliness of Sokusai, a woman he hardly knew but still harbored some irresistible desire for.

She held such a charismatic aura, a glow that seemed to draw him closer to her. The cold water seemed to jog him back into his senses. Aoshi sat as still as a statue, reaffirming his goal. His goal was to train until he mastered every aspect of dual kodachi, and then return to Tokyo and find Battousai. The feelings that he held for some mere woman were to be cast aside. He had done the same before, to the only family that he had known in Kyoto. He could do the same thing again. All he would have to ensure was to never meet her again.

He opened his eyes. They were no longer the soft, jade eyes that had shimmered with a sparkle when he looked at Sokusai's dazzling smile. They had become hard, an unpolished emerald, a bottomless pit devoid of light. He would not be distracted by the presence of an alluring woman. What happened the day before, the emotions that he had held, they were to be cast away.

But what if she rejected helping him once she realized his resolution to forget her? He would have gained little from the encounter. Aoshi furrowed his brow as he thought of a plan.

Use her. It was blatantly simple. Cruel as it was, it was necessary. Fake his emotions, conjure up a façade, and simply follow it until the expiration of her use. What he would do then, he would decide later. He tried not to dwell on the possibility of killing her.

His conscience, something that Aoshi thought he had suppressed long ago, suddenly resurfaced. It nagged him, pushing the fact that he was being too cruel, pushing the fact that he was in love with Sokusai. Despite his unwillingness to admit it, Aoshi knew that what he felt for her was not something simple or meek. And yet love was something Aoshi had given up too long ago. The moment he had left Misao in Kyoto, love was forbidden in Aoshi's agenda.

He reached the shore, dried, and dressed himself. His resolution was firm, his way was clear. He would feign his feelings for Sokusai until he was finished with his training. And he would leave her. It was inevitable, a cruel twist, yes, but a necessary path in tangled destiny.

*************

Kikome looked up as Aoshi approached. She felt her heart skip a beat when she say his wet, ebony hair clinging to his neck, his perfectly sculpted chest (abide scars) revealed from his robes that Kikome had bought for him in a trip to Tokyo. He was unbelievably handsome.

"I made tea," she smiled. "And there's some onigri as well."

He nodded curtly, accepting the steaming cup she passed to him.

Kikome suddenly felt worried. His eyes seemed different. Still a beautiful green, but somewhat…lifeless.

"Something wrong?" she repeated a question from earlier.

He shook his elegant head, spraying slightly with water. "Nothing."

Same answer. He must have seen the worry reflected in her eyes, since he brought up a different topic…criticism.

"Your tea tastes terrible," he said with a cross between a grimace and smirk.

"I'm out of the tea leaves I like," she scowled. Sighing, she downed her tea in one gulp and made a face. "I'll have to pay another visit to town soon."

Her flat voice reflected her dislike for going to a crowded, urban city.

She stood up and picked up her sword, flipping it professionally across her wrist and catching it. Kikome raised an eyebrow and beckoned to the openness in front of them.

"Shall we proceed with the training you're so eager to commence?"

Aoshi chuckled and finished his tea. He leaned over her to pick up his long sheath from against the wall, hugging her to his chest as he leaned back.

Kikome felt her ears burn, her heart thumping rapidly.

"A-Aoshi-san…" she said, flustered.

"All right," he said, letting her go. He smirked and walked away from her, a good ten paces.

She knew she was blushing; she could feel the burn in her cheeks. She seriously liked him. Maybe even loved him. Kikome felt like a child again, a carefree child who only worried about appearances in front of the man she loved. As much as she didn't want to train him, the lurking prospect of his departure seemed hastened if she didn't train him and instead made him upset. She frowned and shook her head, preparing for the sparring to begin.

She would help him as much as she could, and keep him here as long as she could. Perhaps Aoshi would forget his revenge.

But as the blades clinked, the blows exchanged, Kikome felt a weight drop on her heart. Revenge couldn't be forgotten. After all, it had followed her for years. It would follow Aoshi as well, an impartial judge of victims.


	6. Departure

**Chapter 5: Departure**

Six months had passed since she met him. Six glorious, blissful, intoxicatingly wonderful months. Kikome had forgotten how it felt to experience the joy of simply seeing someone she loved so much. She was utterly dependent on him for her happiness, so dependent that it was pathetic.

The possibility that Aoshi may leave her was never far from her mind. But Aoshi had not said anything about his revenge. The only thing that bothered Kikome was his extreme obsession with becoming stronger. It worried her, and the idea, the extreme, impossible, blatantly paranoid idea that he was using her nudged her from time to time. It seemed like the light that Aoshi's eyes had held just that one day had disappeared. Kikome couldn't be sure. It must have been her paranoid nature.

The altitude of the mountains brought the cold season in much quicker than it did in town. Foreboding clouds gathered above in the gray sky. The weather had been cold and rainy lately, so cold that Kikome had a constant fire burning in the hearth and an infinite stock of firewood. She watched Aoshi as he practiced.

"Looks like we're in for snow," she commented, shivering and knowing by intuition what the frosty bite of the wind meant.

Aoshi said nothing and instead continued to practice. The infinite stock of firewood seemed to have come from his training against trees. The clearing in the forest had become much larger due to the incessant practice.

_Kaiten Kenbu, Rokuren!_

Kikome recognized the six successive slashes, invisible to the normal eye, before the tree toppling down. She sighed. Another load of firewood.

She strolled to Aoshi's side and began picking up the pieces of wood, examining the surfaces. They were level and smooth; not one splinter was out of place.

"You could be a carpenter with that level of precision," she said dryly. "You've really mastered that one."

Aoshi simply sheathed his kodachi and began helping her bring the wood to her rather tall pile. Kikome felt disconcerted. He was being a bit too quiet today.

"Aoshi-san."

He turned to look at her.

"What?" he said brusquely.

Kikome felt a jab of agitation, annoyance, and worry. "Is something wrong?"

He began shaking his head, but seemed to stop midway. Kikome noticed his grip tighten on his sheath. Her hand unconsciously moved to the hilt of her sword, casually and inconspicuously.

"…It is time," he said monotonously.

Again, Kikome felt a wave of mixed feelings. Except worry trumped them all this time.

"Time for what?" she asked warily.

In one swift movement, Aoshi slammed her against the wall of the hut, one hand gripped around her throat tightly.

"Your use has expired, for I have now mastered everything I can think of from the Oniwabanshuu. I was thinking about how I should leave," Aoshi said, dangerously quiet. "If I simply left, you might come after me. I couldn't have that. So I decided…"

His sheath and one kodachi dropped to the floor with a thud. He brought the other to her neck.

"…that killing you would be best."

Kikome felt his gloved hand tighten around her neck, making it hard for her to breathe. Aoshi closed in for the kill.

*************

Aoshi kept his tight grip around her neck and drew his kodachi closer. It seemed odd that his arm was moving so slowly. But he was in no hurry. There was no way that a woman who had been infatuated with him for the last half year could react from the shock, and no matter how skilled she was, she would not be able to counter his attack.

He was wrong.

Sokusai's eyes flashed with unspeakable fury as pale fingers dug into the hand choking her with every ounce of strength she had. Taken back, Aoshi let his hand loosen. Sokusai took the opportunity and rammed the hilt of her katana directly into his stomach.

He took a few steps back, doubled over and coughing. She was generous, he mused, to give him enough time to recover. As he straightened up, he realized the transformation of a purring cat into a wild lioness.

Sokusai stood as still as a statue, hardly breathing, like a tigress ready to pounce on her prey. Rage dominated her dark eyes. There was no room for hurt or betrayal.

"My use has expired?" she repeated slowly, every word laden with unfathomable fury. "You said you would kill _me_?"

Aoshi realized that in his moment of confidence, he had placed himself in an extremely disadvantaged situation. He only had one kodachi—the other laid too close to Sokusai to retrieve without being marred. His brief moment of stupidity had turned the tables: he who would have been the killer would now be the killed.

"What has this half year meant for you?" she said furiously. "What do I represent to you? A tool? Toy? Something that can be discarded so easily?"

"Something that can be used," Aoshi said evenly. "And eventually left behind."

His honest answer only heightened her anger. The more her black eyes gleamed, the more intensity they represented. Aoshi suddenly realized that it had been a while since her eyes had been so dark a color. Sometime before, he had noticed her eyes change color; the happier she was, the lighter the color. Only a few moments before had they been an extraordinary hazel green.

What was he thinking about? It was not the time to be thinking about this woman's eye color or the still strikingly beautiful profile she had, despite her rigidness from anger. He had not even noticed that she had taken a stance.

He blinked, and she was gone.

The next moment, Sokusai's blade, still in its sheath, rammed against his back with such concentration that he was forced to take a few steps forward. The pain in his torso area intensified. Their positions had been switched.

"Pick up your kodachi," she spat. "I _swear_," she laid emphasis on the word, "I'll kill you."

Aoshi barely had time to position his blades in his hands when she came at him with inhuman speed. She had never shown him this side of her skill when they had sparred. He abruptly was conscious of the disparity between their skill.

He reacted in time, hearing the refreshingly metallic sound of blades clashing against each other. With every blow, his confidence grew. It was the battlefield again, the place where he belonged, and the place where he would die. But he would not die here. He would fight Battousai, he would avenge his subordinates. And yet the force behind Sokusai was incredible. She was so strong, much stronger than the Battousai he had faced, and Aoshi marveled at the amount of her ability that she had hidden from him.

The rapidity of their fight made it seem like they were dancing. With dances came intricate footwork, and with an increased tempo came the increased possibility of mistake. Aoshi was fast. Sokusai was faster. She was lighter, had more finesse than brute muscle, something that Aoshi had too much of. He lost the rhythm of his footing, and she quickly intercepted, tripping him. He hit the ground with a thud, staring up the silver pattern of her katana.

"…Go on," he managed to say, closing his eyes.

He felt tiny droplets of rain on his face. Sokusai had been wrong about her weather prediction. It was just rain, not snow. Just like she had been wrong about his feelings towards her. He had used her. He felt nothing for her, harbored no love for her.

He was lying to himself. He loved every bit of her, every smile, every attribute of her personality. She was the woman he had always wanted, the perfection of a strong and true woman at its finest. She had come at the wrong time in his life. Aoshi find himself regretting the timing of events in his twenty-six year life. It would end now, by the hands of the woman he loved and used.

Nothing happened. Aoshi opened his eyes and saw nothing but the gray sky. Snow began falling down in sheets. He sat up and looked at the ground. It was damp from the rain yesterday, but not wet. Then where had the raindrops come from if it was snowing now?

He looked around and saw Sokusai walking away behind him.

"Sokusai."

She stopped and turned around halfway. Her beauty was unmarred in spite of tears. Aoshi felt something roar inside him at the sight of her agony. A beast existed in him. Only a beast would use a woman who was in love with him. Only a beast could make this woman shed tears.

She turned away from him but remained where she was. There was a stifling silence.

Aoshi stood up and walked to her. He draped his arms around her shoulders tightly, hugging her to his chest like she was a lifeline.

"Sokusai," he breathed. "Thank you…"

He loosened his hold. "…and good-bye."

Aoshi turned and didn't look back. He disappeared into the woods, leaving the woman he loved behind, alone, just as he found her.

*************

Kikome sat quietly in her hut, cold despite the roaring fire in front of her. She had left the window slightly open so that the oxygen wouldn't run out in the room, but the cold draft it brought was more acute than the warmth of the fire. She shivered and drew the blanket closer around her shoulders. The crying had stopped hours ago. The numbness had set in.

How stupid, how blatantly, completely, incredibly stupid she had been. Trusting him, loving him, depending on him. She felt hollow, as if his last words to her had ripped a part of her soul away and taken it with him as he left. The part of her soul that she had repaired over the last decade, the part she had spent healing after Souzou's death. She gripped the teacup in her hand, staring at the liquid. She had run out of the tea leaves she liked again.

She hurled the cup across the room, feeling odd satisfaction when she heard it shatter into pieces. She laid down and felt the overwhelming agony gnaw at her heart. The tears began to fall again, tiny crystalline droplets that dampened the blanket.

Her initial reaction of anger had dissipated. She was left with nothing but remorse and self-pity.

She was left alone again.


	7. Return of the Past

**Chapter 6: Return of the Past**

Kikome woke feeling groggy. The sky was cloudy and gray; the room was cold since the fire died out long ago. It was impossible to tell what time it was.

It took her a few minutes to remember what had happened the day before. How Aoshi had left her, alone. Used her, tricked her, and despised every moment of their time together.

She felt nothing. No rage, no anxiety, no sorrow. She simply felt empty. Kikome sat up and glanced around the room. She became painfully aware of the emptiness it held without Aoshi. Shaking her head, she stood up and went to the teapot, only to remember she was out of tea leaves. In fact, she was out of a lot of things.

Sighing, Kikome resolved to go to the midst of Tokyo. The busy nature of the city would be a welcome distraction; perhaps she would stay in the city for a few days in an inn, taking advantage of the warmth there.

She hooked the katana to her belt and set down the mountain, a purse full of money jingling inside her robes. She refused to think of Aoshi.

The stares she received in town reminded her that no female really dressed like she did. Kikome scowled. If she was going to remain inconspicuous, she might as well dress like every other woman. She ducked into an inn and went to the receptionist.

The receptionist only stared for a brief moment before he regained his composure.

"How may I help you?" he asked politely.

"I'd like to stay for a few days," Kikome replied. "A week, actually."

He consulted his books. "Yes, we can definitely accommodate you. Name please?"

"Nato Kikome."

He wrote it down in his book.

"Would like anything else? Anything particular?"

"Actually…" she pondered for a moment. "I don't have any other clothes with me. Could you provide me with, say, three or four yukata? Nothing fancy, but they have to be nice quality. It would save me the time to look for it. I'll pay extra, of course."

She gave him a dazzling smile.

He seemed taken back for a moment. "Ah, yes, I can do that…would you like to pay now or when you leave?"

"Now would be fine."

She counted out a fourth of the money with her and gave it to the receptionist.

He led her to her room, relatively comfortable and plain. A futon was already laid out for her, since it was quite late already.

"Would you like dinner?" the usher asked pleasantly.

"That would be fine," she said nonchalantly. "Some sake as well, please."

"They'll be brought presently," he answered. "Your yukata will also be brought to you in the morning."

He bowed out of the room.

Kikome breathed a sigh of relief. Tokyo was definitely much warmer. It still had a spring-like temperature and weather. She would go shopping in the morning and wandering in the afternoon. She abruptly remembered that she had arranged to stay for a week.

She'd go wandering tomorrow then.

A warm, delightfully delicious dinner was brought to her, along with some excellent sake. Kikome ate and drank to her heart's content, then fell fitfully asleep.

She awoke to birds chirping and a golden color illuminating the room. Kikome sat up, hair disheveled and not in the best mood. Her dreams had been filled with things she didn't want to think about. People, in fact.

Souzou had been walking to her with a slight smile and arms outstretched. Kikome had seen a figure behind him with a blade, had cried out to warn him, but it had been too late. Souzou fell in front of her; she caught him in her arms and looked up to see who it was.

Aoshi's green eyes had glimmered and haunted her for the rest of the night.

"What a stupid dream," she muttered angrily. Her fury at Aoshi washed over her like a tidal wave, unstoppable and dangerous. She felt an increasing need to cause him pain. Not that he was here to experience it.

A maid knocked on the door.

"Ojou-sama?" she asked hesitatingly.

Kikome made a face. Ojou-sama? How the hell did she look like a pampered rich girl? It must have been the receptionist. She might have given him too much money, giving him the wrong impression of a woman who came strolling to Tokyo at every whim and fancy.

"Come in," Kikome said.

A girl in her late teens slid open the doors. She was dressed in a dark blue kimono with a red obi. She was kneeling formally with a breakfast tray in front of her.

"Um…I-I was wondering if Ojou-sama wanted any breakfast…" she stammered. "If n-not, then I-I'll leave…"

Kikome raised an eyebrow. Why was she so scared? She must have mistaken Kikome to be some high class daughter who could order her killed at whim.

"You don't need to call me Ojou-sama," Kikome said gently. "I'm not from a wealthy household."

"B-but they said I should treat you like…a princess."

Kikome raised an eyebrow. "Then they're wrong. Please don't do that. It's unnecessary."

"B-but…"

"Please."

"Yes…um…"

"Kikome-san is fine."

Kikome led out a sigh as the maid brought her the breakfast tray.

"What's your name?" Kikome asked, eating nattou.

"Miyuki, Kikome-san."

"Miyuki-chan, you don't need to worry about being formal with me, alright? It'll make me uncomfortable." Kikome continued eating. "Now, I requested some yukata to be delivered today. I'd like to go out right after I eat, so would you mind bringing them?"

"They're already here, ma'am. Right outside, so I'll go get them for you." She walked to the screen doors and slid them open, peering outside. The package seemed rather large, as she had trouble bringing it in.

Kikome finished her miso rather quickly and stood up, facing a mirror. Her hair spread up in random directions, giving her an overall weary and unkempt look. She sighed, her mind trailing back to her nightmare. Aoshi's presence was still imprinted in her memory. She felt the need to get out into the city, and quickly. Perhaps she could find something to distract her.

Miyuki brought in the clothes and began unwrapping them.

"Kikome-san, would you like a specific color?" she asked.

"No, anything will be fine," Kikome answered, turning to face her.

"Then…red?"

Of all colors, it had to be the same as the red kimono that Souzou had given her so long ago. It looked strikingly similar, but with a white pattern of cherry blossoms undulating down to the hem. Her heart pained unconsciously.

"Actually…how about blue?"

"Of course," Miyuki said reassuringly, having gained more confidence with the easier atmosphere. She unwrapped another package and lifted up its contents.

The kimono was elegant and obviously expensive. Kikome scowled to herself; hadn't she said nothing fancy? But she had to admit that it was beautiful, with its deep sea blue color and lighter blue design of a flowing waterfall.

"That'll do," Kikome said finally.

"Would you like me to help you get dressed?" Miyuki offered hopefully.

"Er…"

Kikome stared at the yukata. No doubt she would have trouble figuring out how exactly to tie the obi and whatever complicated designs the kimono entailed.

"That would be wonderful."

Miyuki looked delighted as she helped Kikome into the kimono, tying one sash this way and another that way. Kikome attempted to remember the steps, then finally became so confused that she utterly gave up and let Miyuki dress her. Remembering sword techniques was so much easier.

After the long and intricate process was completed, Miyuki insisted on helping Kikome with her hair. She brushed through it gently and wove it into a simple but elegant bun, securing it with an ivory pin.

Miyuki stepped back to admire her work.

"Kikome-san, you are absolutely beautiful," she beamed.

Kikome felt the color rise to her cheeks. "Thank you, Miyuki-chan. For the compliment and for your help."

"Are you leaving now?" she inquired.

"Yes," Kikome answered, tired of her solitariness. Not that Miyuki did not provide satisfactory company—she was really quite delightful—but it alone was not enough to distract her from her thoughts of Aoshi.

"Um…Kikome-san," Miyuki said shyly. "May I ask you a favor?"

"Certainly."

"May I attend to you while you're here?"

Kikome raised an eyebrow.

"I don't mind, but you certainly can't be at the inn all day…"

"Oh, I'm the daughter of the owner," Miyuki said bashfully. "I'd like to keep you company though…"

"That'd be wonderful," Kikome smiled. It seemed odd, as if her muscles were working extra hard to stretch so far.

"Thank you!" Miyuki exclaimed, delighted. So odd that her presence would give her such happiness. It usually drove people away from her.

Waving a farewell to Miyuki, Kikome strolled to the entrance of the inn, debating where she should go. The receptionist from the night before rushed to her upon seeing her.

"Nato-sama," he beamed. "I hope you had a restful night?"

"It was excellent," she lied. Was it normal for the receptionist to inquire of the wellbeing of every guest?

"That makes me glad to hear," he said, still beaming. "How may I be of service to you today?"

So officious. She wanted to wander by herself.

"There's nothing I need right now," she said. "I'll be going now."

His face fell slightly as he bade her a good day. Kikome walked into the streets and mingled with the passing crowd. Tokyo was so busy. It had certainly grown in the last few years. Various shops and restaurants beckoned to her as she strolled through, scanning her eyes for anything that might interest her.

She stopped at a small cart selling portraits. An older man sat behind the counter, smoking and reading a newspaper. Kikome approached silently and looked intently at the paintings. She had always held an appreciation for art in any form, and these certainly seemed well-done.

"Well, what do we have here?" the salesman said pleasantly. "Looking for anything in particular? We have some of Tsunan's works—"

He stopped abruptly when he looked at her face closely.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, taken back by his stare.

"…You are very beautiful," he commented.

"…Thank you."

"I was just thinking that you looked a lot like one of Tsunan's works. In fact…"

He shifted through some paintings and came upon a painting, shoving it into my hand.

"You look just a bit older than her, anyway. It's quite a painting; the woman is truly beautiful, much like yourself."

She glanced at the portrait. Her eyes widened. She stared at the profile of a young girl, dressed in a red kimono. A red kimono with the same design as the one Souzou had given her. She scrutinized the face, noticing the minute details of an almost haughty tilt of the chin and the ebony eyes, dark and hard. She gazed at a profile of herself. But there was no way anyone knew what she looked like then. No one who knew the kimono Souzou had given her.

"How—" she began incredulously.

She stopped when her eyes landed on another portrait. She snatched it up and shock spread throughout her expression.

"Did this Tsunan draw this as well?" she asked, almost whispering.

The salesman looked at the painting she held and nodded. "Doesn't sell well, that one. Strange, you're the second one to pick that up all day. Don't see why Tsunan would paint a portrait of the leader of the false Sekihou Army…"

He trailed off as he thought. Kikome continued to stare at the painting in disbelief. Souzou stood in the center of the painting, sword in front of him. At his right side was Sano-chan, at his left was Katsu.

Kikome stopped breathing.

They were alive.


	8. Note from the Author

**Note from the Author**

So the last chapter dragged out for a little longer than I intended, but I feel that the transition was necessary. Very sorry if you hated it.

I'm at the Meiji era now! I figured the timing's probably a bit off, but I really didn't want to research the whole thing and figure it all out. _ That would be too much of a hassle.

Shinomori Aoshi was one of my favorite characters since the beginning. Not only is he incredibly handsome, but his personality is just so…antisocial that it draws you to him. I wanted to make it clear that Kikome is not just some flirtatious, frivolous woman who threw herself into the arms of another man, so I depicted her dependency on Aoshi as similar to her dependency on Souzou. She has matured in the last ten years; she smiles more often, laughs, and is more social, something that Okita influenced her to do. I think people may get tired of me saying that she's beautiful as well, but I also think that's necessary. She looks more womanly and also holds a charismatic aura; strangers and friends alike can't deny that she's alluring. However, she doesn't see herself that way. The beauty she sees in herself is in her strength, her swordplay—thus, you'll probably never hear her say "Oh, no, I'm not beautiful at all." She's not arrogant about her appearance—she just doesn't really care if she's beautiful or not. If she is, then so be it. However, since this book's told from various points of view, I won't undermine what others see in her physical appearance.

I wished I could have belabored Kikome's friendship with Okita, but time proved otherwise, and I couldn't have the plot spiral off at a tangent. But I do want to say that their relationship was that of very close friends, not lovers, but perhaps maybe a bit deeper than normal. However, I don't want to say that Kikome and Saitou have no sort of relationship. They were probably also at the same end of the friendship spectrum as with Okita.

The next chapter(s) will probably be taken from excerpts from the anime, since I think they'll provide a better setting for what I have next in mind. I won't say more, lest I spoil it. 

I pretty much have the whole thing planned out, which I'm very pleased with. However, it's taking me a much longer time to type it out and put it into words. I usually plan by picturing it like an anime in my head, which makes it harder to translate into text. Thus, transitions are probably longer than necessary…again, I'm very sorry if you are annoyed if it.

Lastly, thanks so much for reading. Comments and whatnot really keep me writing! If you guys hadn't supported me, I would have given up on this a long time ago.

Again, thanks, and enjoy!

--Jenniko-chan


	9. Tracking

**Chapter 7: Tracking **

Kikome ran through the crowds, searching frantically. She had gotten some information from the shopkeeper—the man who had picked up the portrait of Souzou earlier this morning had spiky brown hair and a burly body, a red headband tied around his forehead and a white outfit with the character "aku" on his back. That was definitely Sano. Katsu had never been the brawny type. She was certain the Katsu was Tsunan, and she had obtained the address of his residence.

Kikome darted through the alleys, cursing all the while. The kimono seriously hindered her speed, and she suddenly remembered that she had left her sword back in the hotel room.

"Dammit," she swore under her breath. How the hell was she supposed to know where she was going? The alleys were too confusing. She stopped to analyze where she was.

A young man and woman walked past her, conversing. The man had flaming red hair and a cross-shaped scar on his left cheek. Kikome whirled around as they passed her. A sword was dangling at his side.

It was Battousai.

A flurry of thoughts whirled through her mind. Aoshi had said that Battousai had found friends in Tokyo, and stayed with a young woman named Kamiya Kaoru who was the head of a dojo. She racked her brains for more information. There had been a young boy…and another well-built street fighter who was called Zanza. Kikome's eyes widened as she remembered. Zanza's real name was somewhere along the lines of…Sanosuke.

What were the chances? That Sano would team up with Battousai against the lone man she had met in the mountains? Her life was too full of coincidences, twists and turns. Just like the damn alleys.

She broke into a run down the street that Battousai had come from. She was not even surprised that she had run into him. Nor was she surprised that he had not recognized her—no one really could in this sort of womanly getup.

Kikome arrived at a string of homes. She raced to the one at the very end, which, according to the shopkeeper, would be Tsunan's. She arrived at the door and raised her hand to knock.

Two voices were speaking in low tones.

"But it's all in preparation for the day when you and I would reunite," a voice was saying. "Maybe the captain can guide us from heaven!"

"Katsu?" a deeper, huskier voice said inquiringly.

"Sanosuke…shall I ask you to join the Sehikoutai once more?" Katsu asked, hatred and ill-will embedded in his tone.

Kikome froze.

"We'll destroy the new government," Katsu continued, "and make the new era Captain Sagara dreamed to reality!"

What. The. Hell. Did he have any idea what he was saying?

"I haven't been wasting my time these last ten years," Katsu said bitterly. "I've been making bombs—" There was the sound of a screen door being slid open. "If we bomb all the divisions of the new government, poor farmers and samurais will rise in rebellion, and overthrow the government! We simply need to instigate this rebellion."

He was out of his mind.

"You can't do that, Katsu," Sanosuke protested. "There have been rumors already—haven't you heard of the murders and robberies being done lately? The shopkeeper said someone bought a whole stack of your paintings of the captain and has been placing them over bodies at each crime scene! This bombing will only increase that panic and mistrust of the Sekihoutai!"

Kikome was now interested. Not in Katsu's plan, but in Sanosuke's information. Someone was trying to scapegoat the Sekihoutai again? She could feel the blood boil and the familiar pounding of her heart. An insane gleam returned to her eyes as she smiled cruelly.

Where had they hit last? And where were they now?

Katsu answered her question.

"I've already thought of that," he snapped. "And I already have information. There's this man by the name of Red-Nosed Shinzou who has been doing remarkably well in gambling. When asked of his luck, he says that it is all due to the Sekihoutai."

Some criminals were so pleasantly stupid.

Kastu continued with the address of the gambling corner. She memorized it easily and prepared to leave. There was no need to see these two. They were fine, albeit moronic for trying to continue Sagara's legacy, but they were alive.

Kikome felt a presence approach from behind the door. Sano was standing up. She dashed to the side of the house, out of view, breathing rapidly. Sano slid the door open and peered out. She caught a glimpse of him. He had matured, obviously, from the nine-year old boy that had joined the Sekihoutai. So much for the girlish-figure; he was the epitome of a burly, well-built man. He looked around with a perplexed look on his face.

"Sanosuke?" Katsu's voice said from inside. "Something wrong?"

"Nah, it's nothing," he said. "I thought someone was out here. Guess I was wrong."

Kikome heard him slide the door shut and the two resumed talking in low voices. She smiled.

Her role as Sokusai had returned.

Kikome rushed back to the hotel, brushing off the ever-too-helpful receptionist and ran into her room. Miyuki was already in there.

"Kikome-san!" she said, delighted. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes," Kikome said breathlessly. She pushed a scrap of paper into Miyuki's hand. "Where is this place?"

Miyuki frowned. "Kikome-san…this isn't a very advisable place for a dignified woman like you to be going to…"

"No, I'm looking for someone there, not to gamble," Kikome said quickly. "Please don't misunderstand."

Miyuki's dark expression cleared, and she said cheerfully, "Of course not! Kikome-san is too sensible to gamble meaninglessly."

She pointed out the streets and directions to Kikome on a map and bade her good luck.

Kikome looked at the map and blanched. Tokyo was so confusing. Nevertheless, she tucked her purse under the obi and began her pursuit. The gambling corner was not far; a mere fifteen minute walk sufficed.

She pushed open the doors and was greeted by a horrific stench of alcohol and sweat. The room was packed with ruffians of all kinds, trying their hands at cards and dice. She scanned the room for Red-Nosed Shinzou and spotted him in a corner. Not very hard to find. His red nose was terribly prominent.

A few men sauntered up to her.

"Hey, beautiful," they grinned, flashing rotten teeth. Hygiene was ever so important to a woman, didn't they know that? Nevertheless, she gave them a brilliant smile.

"Hello."

"Looking for some fun?" a particularly muscular one asked. "I assure you, we could give you the time of your life here!" He guffawed in his own dirty little world.

Hiding her grimace, Kikome froze her smile in place. "I am actually looking for someone very lucky," she said pleasantly.

Almost everyone's eyes were on her now.

"I've heard about his remarkable achievements lately," she continued. "Is someone by the name of Shinzou here?"

The other men growled, but Shinzou's face grew into a wide smile as he turned around to face her lazily.

"That'd be me, lovely lady," he said arrogantly. "May I be of assistance?"

Kikome gracefully glided towards him. Shinzou waved his neighbor away and offered her the empty seat.

"I do love lucky men," she said softly. "And I'm quite interested to see that luck in action."

Shinzou laughed and grabbed the dice. "How about a little bet?"

Kikome raised an eyebrow. "Your wagers?"

"If I call it right, then I'll take you to me and my boss's place and we'll have some fun," he crooned. "Fun until morning."

She seriously wanted to throw up. After months of seeing one lone man, one of the most beautiful men in the world, Shinzou looked like a dog to her. Worse than a dog. Nevertheless, her smile persevered.

"That's fine," she smiled. The other men growled even louder. "And if you don't…"

"There is no 'if I don't', lady," Shinzou snickered. "I'll be sure to win, and you and I can have some personal bonding time tonight."

He rolled the dice in a cup and slammed the cup face down on the desk.

"Odd," he said confidently. He lifted up the cup. Six and five; eleven.

He repeated the process. "Odd," he said again. Four and one; five.

"One more time," he sneered. "Even."

Double sixes. Twelve.

What a stupid way to gamble.

He burst out laughing. "Looks like I won a night with the most beautiful woman in the world!" He reached for her.

Kikome instinctively smacked his hand away. He looked at her, surprised.

"Why don't we meet up tonight?" she offered. She needed time to change and remove the stench from her clothes, as well as to arm herself with her katana. Kikome couldn't wait to kill them.

"And let you get away?" Shinzou said, disbelieving. "No way."

"You think I'll run? You think I'm not a woman of my word?" she purred. She leaned towards him seductively, despite her revulsion.

His face turned the same color as his nose. "O-of course not."

She stood up to leave. "Then here, tonight. Ten o'clock."

She swept up and left the room with the grace of a goddess.


	10. Crimson

**Chapter 8: Crimson**

Night came fairly swiftly, just like it always did on assassination nights. Kikome had done a bit of research before she left, confirming that the people that she was about to kill had no one who would miss them.

Perfect. Killing off nobodies who tainted the name of Sekihou even further would bring her no little satisfaction.

She had returned to the hotel to meet an anxious Miyuki, who helped her change into a lighter yukata with longer sleeves to conceal the katana, which was tied to her left arm. It would make her seem oddly stiff and awkward, but it would have to do. There was no way she could hide it under her obi. Kikome would just make sure to stand on the left side of Shinzou.

She looked in the mirror one more time to make sure her hair was in place. The kimono tonight was the elegant red one she had refused to wear in the morning. To appear once more as Sokusai in crimson would be somewhat ironic. She would have to be careful so blood wouldn't stain the silk.

Assuring Miyuki that she would be back soon, Kikome stepped out into the dimly lit streets that were not quite empty. She walked briskly to the appointed place. There was no need to be tardy for her rendezvous.

Shinzou was already waiting for her, a beer bottle in one hand and a horrific stench all around him. He would certainly die of liver problems soon enough—Kikome was simply hastening the arrival of his death.

She smiled sweetly. "Shinzou-san," she greeted.

"Hey, beautiful," he said, slurring his words a bit. "It's time for some fun…"

"But aren't you going to introduce me to your boss first?" she asked innocently. "After all, we wouldn't want to upset him before we enjoy ourselves…"

He didn't seem to like the idea of showing her to his boss.

"He might be angry," she hinted.

The thought of facing his boss's wrath made up his mind.

"Yeah…I ge'ss that's bedder…" he said, words jumbled up incoherently.

He led the way, often trying to grab her arm along the way. She avoided his advances; no need to contaminate this gorgeous yukata with his reviling touch.

They walked for a good ten minutes, Kikome growing increasingly edgy as Shindou rambled on about his so-called manliness and his disgusting imagination. So incredibly rude and gross.

They arrived at a sturdy gate, a lamp illuminating the plaque across the board.

Shindou Tatewaki.

She stood deathly still, her heart accelerating furiously and the blood rushing past her ears. Kikome couldn't believe the amount of irony she would have to sustain today. To think it was Shindou, _Shindou_, of all people, to be using the Sekihoutai in this fashion. She could scarcely believe his audacity. But it was there. He was her target tonight.

A cruel and dangerously wicked smile crept up her lips.

"Hey, lovely…You ain't comin' in?" Shinzou beckoned impatiently, already pushing open the door.

"Of course," she said, voice no longer smooth. It was instead cold, diamond hard, embedded with ten years worth of revenge, with the souls of the dead, and with the hatred of one of the most feared assassins of the age.

Shinzou did not hear her. Instead, he ushered her quickly into the courtyard. Kikome caught a glimpse of the amount of guards there. No more than twenty people tonight. How boring. But then again, it was no longer the Bakamatsu era, when Patriots had to cower in fear every night, guarded by over fifty men.

"Hey, Boss!" called out Shinzou. "Got a little sumthin' for you here…"

The door slid open and Sokusai came face to face with the man that she had failed to kill ten years ago. He had aged, but he looked wealthy. Still taking money using the Sekihoutai? Some people never changed.

"What is it, Shinzou?" he said gruffly. His eyes landed on Kikome.

"My, my," he murmured. "What have we here?"

He stepped off the deck and came to address them. Kikome walked forward, distancing herself a katana's length from Shinzou.

"Lady, where ya goin'?" Shinzou said, pouting.

In a split second, Kikome drew her blade and slashed it behind her, perfectly catching Shinzou's throat and slitting it open. Blood spewed like a fountain, missing her by an inch. She was quite good at this.

"Who the hell—" Shinzou exclaimed. "Men, come here! Quickly!"

Kikome waited as all the men assembled. She closed her eyes and counted the presences before her and in the house. The house was empty.

"That's everyone then," she said, opening her dark eyes and looking around.

"Who are you?" Shinzou demanded. "Why the hell are you here?!"

"Now, now, Shindou-san," Kikome smirked. "Don't tell me you forgot me already?"

She disappeared from view and appeared right in front of him. The men seemed oblivious for a few seconds, then turned around to see her with her sword at their boss's neck.

"Perhaps this will freshen your memory?" she murmured softly. The full moon gleamed directly over her, illumining her slim profile and the silver pattern of her sword.

Shindou looked bewildered as he looked at her face, analyzing her every feature. He finally met her eyes. Recognition dawned on him, then utmost fear.

"S…Sokusai," he scarcely breathed.

"Wonderful," she said gently. "I'm so pleased that we are now well-acquainted."

She slashed her blade behind her vertically, then to her right, never taking her eyes off Shindou. Two thuds followed.

The men followed behind their fallen comrades with upraised swords and battle cries. Sokusai never turned from Shindou, but with every sound of a falling body, her eyes grew colder, almost a crimson color. Like blood.

A perfect circle with a radius of one foot around Sokusai stayed perfectly clean. The moment the one foot boundary was crossed, blood was splattered everywhere. The red color laid stagnant on the smoothly paved concrete pathway, while other bodies laid still on the freshly dipped-in-blood grass.

"Marvelous, don't you think?"

Shindou did not answer. He could not answer. In one of the loveliest faces he could only see foreboding death and destruction. His legs failed him; he collapsed in front of the vengeful goddess.

"My, my," she said, not noticing his collapse, her eyes closed again. "It looks like people are coming…the police? Already? Well…we are rather close. They must have noticed the sudden silence of such a rowdy place."

Her eyes opened again, and they glimmered, like polished onyxes. But when she tilted her head slightly, they reflected the bloody scene around her, and they glowed, like rubies, crimson and hollow. She stood perfectly still for a few moments, like a statue, contemplating what she should do.

"I should obviously kill you," she said to herself. "But…so fast? That would be so boring…" She sighed. "But I don't have too much time left."

One flash.

Shindou's scream broke out into the knight. One of his arms flopped uselessly three feet away from him. Blood flowed uncontrollably from the open stump of an arm.

Sokusai grimaced. "Ugh, you're getting my clothes dirty."

She hopped above him onto the deck and inspected her clothes.

"Hm…I don't think they stained. Good."

A cracking sound loud as thunder mingled with Shindou's terrible scream. Kikome frowned.

"Looks like I hit a little too hard. Your back's broken now…this makes me feel sadistic…"

She glanced up sharply, knowing that the police weren't far behind. Quickly, she threw open the doors behind her, exposing obvious signs of smuggling, theft, robbery, and murder.

In one swift moment, she made up her mind.

"I'm going to leave you alive." She could hear his breathing become more labored. He must have been in serious pain. Kikome felt no remorse.

"I'll let the police take care of you. The criminal evidence is obvious, and you'll probably get the death sentence after this. Besides, my revenge is complete with seeing you in so much physical pain." She jabbed her metal sheath on his knee, hearing it splinter. "And…" She whirled around and faced him. "Should I hear that you're still alive after this and not in jail, be sure," she smiled mercilessly, "that I will kill you then."

Shindou whimpered.

The doors burst open but Sokusai had long disappeared. The police officers who had arrived at the scene first said that they saw nothing of the murderer except for a red ribbon and a flash of crimson left behind like a mirage.


	11. Recognition

**Chapter 9: Recognition**

Morning came, twinkling innocently, revealing nothing of the heinous crime committed the night before. The daily news, on the other hand, did.

_Last night, a murderer went to the house of Shindou Tatewaki, a former Patriot, and killed twenty of his guardsmen. While Shindou was left alive, one of his arms were amputated cleanly off and his back and his right knee were broken. Signs of smuggling and theft were found at the scene of the crime, and Shindou confessed to being behind the Sekihoutai's crimes as of late, despite the fact that Shindou himself was the one who executed the false army. There will be an investigation._

_When asked of who committed the murders, Shindou-san could only say one word: Sokusai. The police are convinced that the odd response is only a repercussion of Shindou's past traumatic experiences, of which one was his near death by the hands of Sokusai, an infamous hitokiri during the Bakamatsu who targeted Patriots. _

_Shindou insisted that the killer was Sokusai, giving an even odder description that further strengthened the police's resolution that Shindou was not quite in his right mind. Shindou claimed that Sokusai was an incredibly beautiful woman, middle-aged, and quite dangerous. The police have disregarded his information and are continuing the search. Shindou will be jailed for the recent crimes. _

Kikome read the article with unfeigned interest, sipping her tea silently. She had made it back without much clamor; Miyuki sincerely believed that she had simply gone to a local café to drink some tea and hear gossip. Not a speck of blood was on her kimono; the slightly rusty scent of blood had been easily covered up with perfume.

Kikome stood quietly as Miyuki dressed her again, finishing her outfit with an elegantly braided bun and tint of makeup. Dressing her in the morning seemed to be Miyuki's favorite time of day, since she never stopped complimenting on how beautiful Kikome was. It made her embarrassed and self-conscious; she knew that she had grown much more feminine in the last ten years, but to hear, constantly, that she was lovely was unsettling.

The morning passed by without much incident. Kikome had spent it leisurely walking around, buying souvenirs and other pretty objects to suit her fancy. She would buy tea leaves before her departure. She glanced at the sun's position in the sky—she had woken up a bit late after her expedition late last night. It was around one o'clock…and she was a bit hungry. She decided to go back to the inn to eat.

Kikome was surprised to find the receptionist waiting for her. He had not gotten any less overly helpful, so she was taken back to see that he was staring at her with a sour expression on his face.

"Nato-sama," he greeted her.

"Is something amiss?" she asked. Her speech had been quite refined in public, thus giving off the aura of someone well-educated and wealthy. Hence the "-sama" honorific.

"There's a man here looking for you," he said darkly. "By the name of Fujita Goro."

Kikome cocked her head to one side, thinking hard. "Hm…doesn't sound familiar…"

The receptionist's face brightened at the reply. "Well then, I'll just send him away!"

Kikome shook her head. "No, I should go meet him in case he needs something important. Where is he now?"

"In your room. Miyuki led him there."

Kikome left him and strode to her room. Fujita Goro was seriously not a name she could remember, even if she thought as far back as to her training days. She arrived at her room and slid the door open.

She faced the back profile of a strongly built man in dark blue robes, who was conversing socially with Miyuki. Miyuki's eyes lit up upon seeing Kikome, but not as if her guest had been terrible company.

"Fujita-san, this is Nato Kikome-san."

The man turned around to face Kikome. Her stomach lurched.

Squinty eyes, a narrow, wolfish face, covered by thin strands of dark hair. Kikome's eyes widened.

Saitou-san?

He looked at her, neither of them breaking the silence. It seemed as if he were scrutinizing every aspect of her face.

"Pardon me," he said formally. "Are you Nato Kikome?"

"…Yes," was all she could manage.

"Forgive me," he said, standing up and beginning to leave. "I thought that you were an old friend—coincidentally, you two have the same name…"

He bowed and began to walk away. Kikome blinked, and recovered from her shock. She pivoted around and grabbed his sleeve.

"Saitou-san."

He whirled around and stared at her, his squinty eyes finally opening, revealing shimmering golden irises and a flicker of surprise.

"It's me," she said breathlessly. "You're Saitou-san, aren't you?"

His face broke out into a wolfish smirk.

"Impossible," he said, still grinning. "There's no way you would dress up like a…woman."

She scowled. "Keep your impertinent comments to yourself." She turned to Miyuki, who looked genuinely confused and surprised.

"Miyuki-chan, can you leave us alone for a while?" she smiled. "And perhaps bring us lunch?"

"Certainly," she replied, still bemused. She disappeared quickly into the hallway.

Kikome beckoned Saitou to sit down again, smiling broadly and sitting across from him. He looked the same, perhaps a few more deep contours around his already narrow cheeks. His golden eyes were the same as ever, hiding a coldness that only she would know.

"I can't believe you're in Tokyo," she said, pleased. "It's been a whirlwind of old faces recently."

"Of course," he said. "With Shindou and all, I'm quite surprised that you aren't sick of the strange coincidences that Tokyo holds for you."

She smirked. "Is that how you found me? I'm not too surprised."

He laughed. "Of course, no one else really believed what he was saying. But I knew."

His voice was a deep, soothing bass tone. Kikome had forgotten how much she missed it. Her eyes closed unconsciously, listening to the low voice continue speaking.

"The other policemen were very surprised. Twenty men massacred with deathly skill and Shindou in considerable pain. We're going to be looking for the perpetrator for a while."

Kikome's eyes snapped open.

"We're?" she said questioningly. "What are you?"

"A policeman," he smirked.

She slammed her hand down on the tatami mat forcefully.

"What?" she said fiercely. "You're a _policeman?_ What the hell are you thinking? Weren't you one of the Miburo? Why are you working for the Meiji government?"

"Looks like you don't know me very well," Saitou replied lightly, not surprised with her reaction. "I intend to protect Japan to the very end, regardless of her ruler. Despite the problems, Japan's people are in, if not tenuous, time of peace. I will guard that."

"But _why?_" she said exasperatedly. "Just leave it alone! It doesn't matter—why are you helping the side that you were enemies with ten years ago? Is Okita-kun doing the same thing? Would Okita-kun—"

"Okita is dead."

The words felt like she had slammed into a ton of steel. Her eyes widened as she found that she could no longer speak.

"Dead?" she repeated to herself. Kikome resumed her sitting position and stared at her pale hands, gripping her kimono tightly. Her eyes closed as she tried to find the memories etched in her mind of Okita. Okita, with his ever-smiling face and cheery laughter, despite his sickness and the gruesome scenes he saw constantly. Optimistic Okita-kun, dead. A wave of grief washed over her.

"How long ago?" she asked, straining to keep her voice steady.

"About eight years," Saitou said, somewhat gently. "He lived the Boshin Wars but the tuberculosis eventually got to him."

So it was by disease. Kikome felt a bit relieved; at least he had not died by someone else's hand.

"Are you alright?" she heard Saitou ask.

"Yes," she forced herself to reply. "Yes, I'm fine." She stared at Saitou's golden eyes, shrewd and unyielding.

"So then…continue with your story," Kikome said, recovering her composure and once again charming. "How did you find me?"

Saitou's smirk was once again fixated on his face. "Let's see…"

*************

The murder at Shindou's had surprised Saitou greatly. Having arrived at the scene, he felt chills run down his spine as he surveyed the perfectly executed death blows on the corpses. Most men had their throats impeccably slit—it was accurate to the exact centimeter of depth to ensure painless death. Saitou had not been aware of anyone in Tokyo who could have achieved this feat except for Battousai, not as if _that_ made any sense since the ex-hitokiri had sworn not to kill. His skill probably would not match up to the execution anyway, he'd become so weak.

The others had simply seen a flash of red, gone so fast that they couldn't be sure if it had existed. But Saitou had seen more. A red ribbon from a loose obi, a slim profile disappear into the night. He had had no idea who the killer might be, until Shindou began babbling.

At first, Saitou had simply ignored the man—he was in excruciating pain and therefore his words were a string of curses at the police for not getting there in time. Saitou had instead studied the open room behind Shindou, signs of criminal activity strewn across the floor, a stack of the Sekihoutai captain's portrait amongst them.

Then Shindou had yelled the name Sokusai. Saitou's interest was immediately piqued. He listened intently as Shindou had described her—red kimono, incredibly beautiful, and eyes as dark as coals, flashing red when she smiled cruelly. The description was accurate enough—Sokusai was definitely in Tokyo.

The first thing Saitou had done in the morning was ask around town, repeating her description to shopkeepers. It hadn't been hard to find her; the rumors of a gorgeous, youthful woman had been circulating around. They believed that she was the daughter of a rich household, with the elegant way she carried herself and her seemingly endless supply of money. A shop owner had pointed out which way to her hotel and the receptionist had received him, though not cordially, but civil enough.

The moment she had walked in the room, Saitou immediately thought that he was mistaken. The Sokusai he knew had been attractive, true, but not extraordinary. This woman was a beauty. An expensive yukata, elegantly woven hair, a tint of crimson lipstick. Perhaps she really was just a rich mistress.

But as he passed by, she had grabbed his arm and said his name softly, in a voice that had become almost musical. It was her. The one aspect that had not changed was her unyielding eyes, a bottomless pit of darkness and coldness. But she had smiled. She had laughed. Things Sokusai would never do. She had changed.

Saitou had been even more taken back when pain and regret flashed through her eyes and elegant features upon hearing about Okita's death. All of a sudden, she seemed like a true…_woman_, capable of weakness in emotions and sorrow. Sokusai's emotions had softened over the years, but unlike Battousai, her skill had not dulled. On the other hand, she seemed to have gotten better, no longer driven by revenge and able to fight with a clear and level head.

Nevertheless, it had been awkward when she was reminiscing about Okita. Saitou was relieved when she had regained her composure; he didn't know what he would have done if she had continued her sorrowful expression.

He finished explaining how he found her; she did not interrupt once, instead listening with rapt interest and occasionally laughing. Lunch had been brought and served; they were now drinking tea.

"Why not sake?" she asked, swirling her teacup.

"You should know that I tend to feel like killing people when I drink too much," he said easily.

"Low alcohol tolerance?" she said, the barest trace of a smirk tugging on her lips. "That's a bit sad."

She sipped her tea for a few silent minutes. Saitou had to admit: she had undoubtedly gotten…sexier. Her feminine features were certainly accentuated by the flirtatious-colored lipstick, but she had somewhat of an alluring aura about her. Saitou decided not to comment about it.

"So what exactly are you in Tokyo for, Saitou-san?" Sokusai questioned.

"I'm tailing Battousai."

"Why?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "You're not surprised that he's here?"

"I actually saw him yesterday," she said dryly. "He didn't recognize me though." She gestured at her clothes. "Perhaps the same reason you didn't?"

"I admit, it was very surprising to realize that you could look feminine. You enjoy wearing your gender's clothing now?"

She scoffed. "Of course not. I still can't figure how to tie which sash with what robe; it's too confusing. I only wanted to blend in during my stay. Believe me, it's much more comfortable in men's clothing."

"But you managed to kill twenty people in a yukata?"

"It was a bit difficult not getting blood on the silk," Sokusai shrugged. "But not too bad. It was satisfying hearing Shindou scream like that though…perhaps I should have cut a leg off too…"

Saitou barked in laughter. She was so incredibly amusing, still thinking about what she could have done to make the man feel anymore pain than he was already.

"So you _are_ here just for a social visit, right?" said she, a bit worried. "Not to arrest me? Because I'm afraid I won't let you do that…"

"Relax, Sokusai," Saitou said reassuringly. "I'm not in my police uniform, am I?"

"I suppose you couldn't arrest an old friend anyway?" she smiled wryly. "So what are you tailing Battousai for?"

"The government has somewhat of a…dilemma in Kyoto," Saitou said lightly, ignoring her frown at hearing the word 'government.' "They need me to test Battousai's power to see if he can be of assistance."

"Hm…" she mused. "A dilemma so large they need both of you to help? Willing to reconcile two natural enemies?"

"Not reconcile," he corrected. "Just…cooperate."

"Do I get to know the dilemma?"

"If you're willing to help."

She snickered. "You really think I'm going to help the Meiji government?"

"Well…how about you come help me test Battousai?" he offered as an alternative.

He was quite eager to keep her close to him, for some particular reason.

"I might need someone to stop us in case we get…too carried away." His eyes glittered like gold ingots at the possibility.

She laughed. "You want to fight him? I highly doubt he could keep up." Her grin grew bitter. "I heard he's weak now."

"From who?"

"An acquaintance," she said grimly. "But yes, do call me when you're ready. I'll come with you."


	12. Familiar Faces

**Chapter 10: Familiar Faces**

Saitou called her out three weeks later to have lunch with him. They went to a local noodle store, chatting amiably and quite content. The store was crowded and seating was hard too find—they sat side by side across from a lone man, who eventually left after a few minutes.

"I can't get used to your outrageously feminine apparel," Saitou said teasingly.

Kikome rolled her eyes. "I can't get used to your police uniform either," she retorted. Though the uniform was really not that bad; his chest was broad and the tight jacket accentuated his muscles. "Besides, it's not _that_ bad, is it?"

"On the contrary, it's a bit too good."

She raised her eyebrows at his comment, but he refrained from further explanation.

A tan, muscular man rudely sat opposite from them. He had stitches across his forehead and right jaw lines—war scars, probably to show off.

"Just a plain bowl of soba?" he said roughly, his voice grating like sandpaper. "Not much of a meal, is it, Saitou-san?"

"I like plain soba," Saitou said lightly. "And it's Fujita right now…Akamatsu-san, was it?"

Akamatsu's eyes flickered to Kikome, who glared at him.

"Oh, so even you can land some good ones," he guffawed. "Actually," he peered closer. Kikome's glare intensified.

"This one is excellent," he laughed. "Care to give her to me?"

Kikome smiled a dangerous smile. "Akamatsu-san, if you come any closer, I'm afraid I might gouge your eyes out. It might make you more attractive."

Saitou snickered.

Akamatsu snarled. "Rude whore."

"Now, now, Akamatsu-san," Saitou said, a hard edge in his voice. "Just because she _is_ beautiful doesn't mean she is what you think she is. She is merely," his arm slipped around her waist and he nuzzled her neck, "an old friend."

She slapped his hand away. "Keep your hands to yourself, Saitou," she snapped.

He chuckled and obliged, leaving a bit more space between them.

"Now, Akamatsu-san, do you want something?"

"It's not that I want anything," Akamatsu growled. "It's just that you annoy me."

"I'm sorry?" Saitou's tone was pleasantly conversational. Kikome sat by him silently, annoyed at Saitou for his previous advance and hateful towards Akamatsu.

"This job should've been mine, but when Shibumi heard about a former Shinsengumi guy, he gave it to the newcomer. That's why I don't like you."

He let out a breath. It stank like fish. Kikome grimaced. Hygiene, hygiene, she called silently in her mind. It contrasted with Saitou's smell, a smoky scent from all the cigarettes he smoked, mixed with a freshness that she couldn't quite describe.

Kikome didn't like him smoking—it reminded her of lung problems, which had killed Okita. She didn't want Saitou to end up the same way. But he had just ignored her, continuing to go through packs of cigarettes a day. At least he looked good smoking.

"All right. If you wanna fight, just hurry up and kill him. Make it fast—you never when someone will be there to stab you in the back."

"Why are you giving _him_ advice?" Kikome interrupted dryly. "It's not like you're better than he is."

Akamatsu glowered at her. "See these scars, lady?" he said, gesturing at his stitches. "These are battle scars. I'm experienced, I know how people are. Some idiotic bitch like you shouldn't be talking. This is men's talk."

Kikome chewed her soba quietly and swallowed.

"See, scars are a misconception. Scars mean that you were hit, that you let down your guard or were too unskilled because an enemy was able to get to you. The fact that your scars are visible," she gestured to his face, "simply proves that you were much weaker than your opponent. You don't see Saitou with scars, do you? They don't mar his face. Perhaps that's why I spend my time with him and not with you." she finished coolly.

Saitou chuckled in his bowl.

"What's so funny?" Akamatsu demanded, defiantly choosing to ignore Kikome.

"What's _not_ funny?" Kikome answered for him.

"There, there," Saitou finally said, patting her shoulder with a gloved hand. "Calm down. Though you really are quite amusing," he added.

He turned to Akamatsu. "About the job…how about we work together?"

Akamatsu looked surprised, not that his stiffly stitched face could show much expression. "What?"

"Let me explain. The day I left Battousai his present, I left him some clues. By now, Battousai should know that it's me. But from that alone, he won't be able to guess my intentions. If I send him a letter, whether it has to do with the fight or not, he will certainly fall for it."

"So you'll send him a challenge," Akamatsu said, understanding dawning on him.

"And you'll bring him down," Saitou completed the sentence.

"Not bad," Akamatsu admitted. "But I still don't like it."

"Why?"

"Battousai's supposed to be an old enemy of yours. Why give him up so easily?"

Kikome smirked. Stupidity should be a sin.

"I called him an old enemy in front of Shibumi-san. But in truth, it doesn't matter to me. As I said, I only want to spend the rest of my life doing something interesting. Rather than danger and riches, I aim for certainty and small wage." His eyes, which had resumed the slit-like position when he began speaking, opened suddenly, the coldness revealed like a blast of frigid air.

"That's the kind of man Fujita Gorou is."

Akamatsu seemed satisfied, huffing as he left without a farewell.

Kikome waited until he was out of sight before she spoke.

"That's the kind of man Fujita Gorou is, hm?" she repeated nonchalantly. "A convincing performance."

"I suppose that means that you know he's just a pawn?"

"Of course." She sipped her tea. "What did you mean about the 'present?' How does Battousai know that it's you?"

"The other day, I visited the dojo in our old medicinal family disguise." Kikome was familiar with the façade. "I met Sagara Sanosuke."

Kikome looked warily at him. "You didn't kill him, did you?"

"Certainly not. He's deeply wounded, but he should be all right."

Kikome breathed deeply. Sano should be fine. "And Shibumi?"

"A conceited, corrupt ex-Patriot. I'm pretending to serve under him to use him as a pawn."

"Does 'pretending' mean groveling like a dog?" she scowled.

"You don't need to put it so crudely." He lit a cigarette and breathed in.

"Fujita-san!" a waitress said reprovingly. "No smoking!"

"Sorry," he grinned, standing up and preparing to leave. Kikome did the same, annoyed that Saitou had begun smoking again.

"Don't look so angry," Saitou said chidingly. "It ruins your perfect face."

This reminded Kikome of his previous advancement, and her scowl grew more pronounced.

"What was up with that?" she demanded.

"Up with what?" he said innocently.

"That…you…your arm," she struggled to find words.

"Don't hurt yourself talking," Saitou smirked. They had arrived at her hotel already. He bent down close to her ear.

"I'll pick you up later today. The trap's been set," he whispered.

He straightened up and shot a grin at someone behind her.

"What was that for?" she frowned. "You could have just said that."

"Just a tease for your receptionist," he flashed a wolfish smile. "I'll pick you up later."

He walked off, fitting his hat snugly over his head and disappeared into the crowd.

*************

Kikome explored Tokyo for the rest of the afternoon, not that there was much left to explore after her four-week stay. She arrived at her hotel late in the afternoon, a bit worried that Saitou had already come.

The receptionist greeted her, and added sourly, "Fujita-san left a note."

He handed it to her, a slightly crumpled note. She scanned the hastily scribbled message.

_It's time. I'm getting impatient and going ahead. He's at the Kamiya dojo. Come as soon as you get this. I'm feeling wild. _

What the hell was he thinking? He couldn't wait a few hours for her?

She darted back to her room. Kikome changed as quickly as she could into her normal masculine clothes, which had been untouched for the past month. She belted her sword to her side and left the hotel through a side door, unnoticed. She ran through the crowds, repeating the directions to the dojo that the receptionist had given her. It was quite far away.

The entire time she was running, Kikome silently cursed Saitou. Had he been so impatient that he would leave without her? He couldn't wait a few more hours? After all, she had waited a month for him to get ready, and he was too hasty to wait for less than half a day.

The sun began setting, glowing a deep, blood-red color. An ominous sign. Kikome picked up her pace. "Down one road, take a left, then a right, and you'll see the Kamiya dojo in front of you."

Sure enough, a wooden headboard greeted her. "Kamiya-Kasshin Dojo," it read.

Kikome flew through the slightly open doors, entering a plain courtyard. Signs of Saitou's destructive nature were obvious; one of the walls had a gigantic hole in it. He'd have to pay the poor girl for reparations later.

She flew with godlike speed through the doors of the dojo hall. Her entrance did not even bother the two fighters.

One glance and she had everything registered. Saitou and Kenshin were fighting intensely, not in the present but back in the past, in Tokyo. It was an old fight, and the pressuring _ki_ from the both of them was overwhelming. Saitou was empty handed with nothing but his belt; he had sustained two or three wounds, at least one to the chin area. Kenshin was in a worse condition, with more blood wounds, but he at least had a metal sheath.

The two flew at each other with frightening speed. Kikome launched herself between them, sword out. Saitou's belt wrapped around her blade, stopped momentarily, while she turned to catch Kenshin's sheath with her bare hands, kneeing him in the chin, causing him to retreat a few steps.

She turned back to Saitou.

"_WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!_" she bellowed at him.

"Tsk," he seemed disappointed that the fight had stopped.

"You couldn't wait a few hours?!" she hissed. "I waited for _weeks_ for you to get your damn act together, then I go out to wander and _you_ couldn't wait a few _hours_ for me?"

She sensed Kenshin behind her. Kikome whirled around and untangled her blade from Saitou's belt, blocking Kenshin's sheath and this time kneeing him in the stomach. He crumpled over; the blood loss was too much. She grabbed his face and slammed his head to the floor, sword at his neck.

"Don't be stupid, Battousai," she said coolly. His eyes were an alarming gold, like the Bakamatsu days. His fiery red-orange hair laid in disarray—his hair band had snapped during the fight.

"You can't beat me like that," Kikome continued. "Calm down and return to your weak but sane state that I saw you in a few weeks ago."

Kenshin finally seemed to see her. He coughed, blood trickling down his chin.

"Kikome?" he managed in a raspy whisper.

"Yeah, it's me," she murmured, getting off of him. "Don't start trying to kill me now."

She turned to address Saitou again, her aggravation at him returning full force.

"You almost killed him," she said, hissing again.

"You made it in time," he shrugged. "All's well."

"All's well?!" she spat. "Look at him! Look at you! Look at the people around you! Simply _testing_ Battousai's merit could have been done in a mere five minutes—my guess is that the moment your fight started, he began reverting from Himura Kenshin to Hitokiri Battousai. You knew that! But no, all that bull that you spewed today about 'him not being your old enemy' was just the opposite of what you really wanted. I thought you said you wanted me here to control you two—obviously you didn't need me here that much."

Her onyx eyes gleamed in fury as Saitou simply shrugged her tirade off, his eyes trailing to the entrance of the room.

She followed his gaze, finally seeing a short policeman with a wispy mustache.

"Stop this instant!" he ordered.

"They've already stopped," Kikome answered coldly. "You've come a bit too late."

The policeman looked taken back at the scene, Saitou with his bloody forehead, belt in one hand and jacket in the other, while Kenshin was sitting up on the floor, blood all around him, and Kikome in the middle, unscathed and furious.

A dark profile appeared behind the policeman.

"That's enough, Kawaji-san," it said. "They're fine."

He came into view, a heavily mustached man and a familiar face throughout all of Japan.

"Okubo Toshimichi," she heard Kenshin say.

One of the three great nobles of the Meiji restoration. The last one in fact. Kyoto's problem must have been huge if he came personally to ask Kenshin for help.

"Saitou, you were only supposed to test Himura Battousai! You—"

"Save your breath," Saitou interrupted, shouldering his jacket and picking up his broken katana. Such a shame—it had carried him through the Bakamatsu. "Progress report: Himura Kenshin is useless. Hitokiri Battousai, however…" he eyed Kenshin, who snarled in return, "…would be of much use. That's it."

He prepared to leave.

"Saitou-san," Kikome called. He tilted his head slightly.

"There's a rat in the bushes," she said quietly.

He smirked and nodded. Giving a slight wave, he disappeared through the doors.

Kikome sighed and turned to Kenshin.

"You all right?" she asked, helping him up. "Sorry I didn't get here sooner—it wouldn't have gotten this bad."

"Are you Nato Kikome?" Okubo asked.

"Yeah," she said tersely, not facing him.

"Be polite," Kawaji snapped.

She whipped around and appeared perfectly in front of him.

"Pardon?" she whispered with a sneer.

"Stop it, Kikome," she heard Kenshin caution. "Don't be belligerent. The fight's over." He walked to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Do you need me, Okubo-dono?" he asked.

"Yes," he answered with a nod. "And Nato-san, as well, if she can come. Shall we go? I have a carriage waiting."

"No. What you have to say concerns not only me but the people around me. Everyone here will listen."

Kenshin's hand left Kikome's shoulder and rammed into his head. Kikome looked at him, alarmed, as blood trickled from his forehead.

He looked up, irises a purple blue color.

"You will speak to all of us. This is not only this one's concern."

"This one?" Kikome heard a female voice say in relief. "Kenshin! He's back!"

The speaker ran to Kenshin and threw her arms around him, laughing. "Kenshin! You're okay! I thought you wouldn't come back, I called, but you didn't respond, and I was so worried—"

She was shaking his shoulders vigorously.

"Hey," Kikome said, placing a hand on the young woman's shoulder. "You're hurting him."

"Seriously, Kaoru, you're going to kill him at this rate," an older woman, in the early twenties, stepped from the corner.

"Oops, sorry Megumi! Here, let me help you bandage him…"

Kikome's attention was drawn to the remaining two in the corner. One was a young boy with a shinai strapped around his shoulder. The other was a tall, swarthy youth who was staring at her.

"Well, well, well, Sano-chan," she said dryly. "Looks like you made it through the Bakamatsu."

His eyes widened.

"No way," he said in disbelief. "Kikome, that's _you_?"

She gave a wry smile, happy to see him but not in the best of moods.

"Who else?"

"I thought you _died_, I thought…with Captain Sagara…"

"Souzou pushed me off the cliff a few moments after you," she said, her throat dry when she remembered the scene. "I made it through."

Sano continued to gawk at her in disbelief. "But you look so…different."

She shrugged. "Not really. Not as much as you, at any rate."

"You know Sano, Kikome-dono?" Kenshin grinned.

"Battousai, don't you dare use honorifics with me," she said.

"Then don't call me Battousai."

"How do _you two_ know each other?" the young boy in the corner demanded. "She knew the Saitou guy! She might try to kill you too, Kenshin!"

"We've…crossed swords a few times," he said weakly.

Kikome rolled her eyes. "It's all right to tell them, I'm not ashamed of my title."

She turned to her audience: the four who lived with Kenshin and the two government officials.

"Pleased to meet you all," she said with a mocking bow. "My name is Nato Kikome, ally of the Shinsengumi and also known as Hitokiri Sokusai."


	13. Options

**Chapter 11: Options **

Their reactions were not unexpected. Okubo was hardly surprised—he had called her out knowing who she was. Kawaji took a step back, his expression guarded as he eyed her warily. He obviously did not know that Okubo had been expecting her.

Sano simply stared in disbelief as the two women gasped. The one named Kaoru unconsciously dragged Kenshin farther away from her. The young boy, on the other hand, simply looked confused.

"Sokusai?" he repeated. "Who's that?"

Sano cuffed him across the head.

"You really need to read the newspapers and some history books, Yahiko," he said curtly. "One of the infamous hitokiri during the Bakamatsu—against the Patriots." He looked at her apprehensively. "So you knew the squint-eye guy?"

"Yeah," Kikome answered indifferently. "We were good friends back in the day…he and Okita-kun saved my life on a few occasions. I repaid them by allying with the Shinsengumi."

Kawaji interrupted abruptly.

"A few weeks ago, Shindou Tatewaki's home was infiltrated and twenty of his men were murdered. Witnesses claimed they only saw a woman in a red yukata go in with a well-known acquaintance of Shindou's…Shindou himself was left alive, and he claimed that Sokusai had done it. Was that you?"

She gave a devilish smile.

"Ten years worth of revenge, Kawaji-san. You're lucky you didn't find him without any limbs at all. It was very refreshing."

Kawaji's expression turned darker, contemplating whether she meant what she said.

"What the hell did you think you were doing, Kikome?" Sano said furiously. "Killing all those people—"

"Don't try to start on that 'you're evil since you kill people' philosophy," she said in a steely tone. "I killed the my targets directly. You and Katsu were going to do it indirectly. It's the same. Perhaps mine was more generous…"

Sano's eyes widened. "You heard…?"

"I was there," she said. "I came across one of Katsu's works of Souzou and me in an art shop. All the information I got about Shindou was from you. Originally, I was just going to kill the ones who were defiling the Sekihou again…Shindou was just an added bonus."

"If you killed all those Patriots, how come Shindou's death came so late?" Sano asked, horrified but curious.

"Kenshin stopped me," she scowled, remembering the scene. "I never really got around to tracking Shindou down again."

"So how come you and Kenshin are so close when you guys are enemies?" Yahiko fired at her. "You guys are on first name terms and everything."

"Um…" Kikome paused.

"She and I have the same Shishou," Kenshin answered the question for her while Megumi fixed his bandages.

"No way!" Yahiko said excitedly. "So you know the Hiten Mitsuruugi moves too! Awesome! But I bet Kenshin can easily beat you," he added triumphantly. "He's the best."

"After watching him get beaten that bad by Saitou, you still think he's the best?" she asked with raised eyes. "But then again, standards have deteriorated these past ten years…"

Yahiko made a face at her.

Kaoru had not spoken, but her eyes had constantly been on Kikome, flickering between awe and fear. She spoke now.

"Nato-san, are you here to kill Kenshin?" Her voice sounded higher than normal.

Kikome sighed, fingering the hilt of her blade.

"No," she said flatly. She did not elaborate.

Okubo cleared his throat.

"Hiimura-san, are you ready to speak with us?" he asked, returning to the point.

Kenshin nodded tersely. "We are ready to hear what you have to say."

"You too, Nato-san?"

"Saitou's told me that there's a problem in Kyoto. I frankly am curious to hear what it exactly it is…but I won't guarantee anything."

"That will suffice."

They moved to the a different room, slightly smaller, but with a hearth. Kaoru fiddled with the matches for a moment, rekindling a burnt-out fire.

Okubo began speaking.

"I'll get straight to the point, then. Himura, Nato, Shishio is plotting rebellion in Kyoto."

No one moved.

"That's not straight to the point at all, Okubo-san," Sano remarked. "What the heck is a Shishio?"

"Watch your mouth!" Kawaji snarled.

"Shishio Makoto…" Kenshin muttered.

"Hitokiri Battousai's successor," Kikome murmured, remembering the red eyes of a man who would've killed her that snowy day on the mountains. "They had him prepared early."

"You have a successor?" Kaoru asked incredulously.

"Someone could succeed _you_?" Yahiko added in the same tone. The blindness of idolization.

"He hid himself so well that few have seen his face. Even I haven't," Kenshin answered quietly.

"You would have if you hadn't blacked out that day," Kikome said.

Kenshin turned to her.

"You've seen him?" he said surprised.

"We crossed swords for a short amount of time. Katsura introduced him to me after you fell…then the Shinsengumi came." Kikome shuddered. The man's eyes had been hollow, cold, a dark crimson that sparked with insanity.

Insanity for power.

Kenshin nodded, thinking. "But I heard that Shishio was killed ten years ago in the beginning of the Boshin Wars."

There was a silence. Kikome understood automatically.

"I see…Shishio Makoto was erased by his own people."

A silent shock spread through the group.

"It was necessary at the time, and it happened often," Okubo insisted. "We had no choice. Shishio was not like you, Himura. He thirsted for power, and unlike you, he did not care for the weak and powerless. If the public ever found out about his assassinations, it would shake the very foundation of the Meiji government. If we had let him live to the beginning of the Meiji, he would use that weakness to play with Japan in the palm of his hand!"

"So he was killed for that, correct?" Kenshin's voice was emotionless.

"Yes! We even had oil poured over the body and the corpse burned to ensure that he was dead! But even then, Shishio Makoto did not die! Now he has gathered a group of bloodthirsty murderers in Kyoto who hate the peace, and will split the country in two! The troops we have sent to stop him have been demolished. Himura, you are our last hope! For the sake of Japan and her people, Himura, please go to Kyoto once again."

"So basically, you're asking Kenshin to assassinate Shishio Makoto," Kaoru said simply.

"…Exactly."

"Of course, he will receive ample reward," Kawaji said professionally. "For example, we will turn a blind eye to certain transgressions, such as the acquittal of Takani Megumi in the opium smuggling incidents…"

Megumi slammed her hand on the floor. "Is this some kind of joke?" she demanded fiercely. "If you're using my opium dealings as a hold on Ken-san, then I will gladly take the noose!"

"It was your dirty work that sparked this whole mess!" Sano added angrily. "Now you want Kenshin to cover your ass?! He's chosen a road to not kill, and now you're going to drag him into the mess?"

"You fool!" Kawaji retorted. "The foundation of the Meiji government is at stake!"

"Screw the Meiji government!" Sano yelled. "All that matters is the safety of Japan and its people!"

"Without the government, the people would be threatened! We wouldn't have peace!"

"That's what you'd like to think!"

"If you don't shut up, I'll have you arrested!"

"Yeah, let's see you try!"

The young one finally spoke.

"I don't understand the whole talk about the Meiji government and all, but what I do get is…if Kenshin hadn't disappeared when he did, you would have killed him too, right?"

There was a silence.

"So the youngest one hits the touchiest nerve?" Kikome said. "But I suppose this pathetic government of yours has to turn to the people they would have gladly killed in the beginning of the Boshin Wars, it's so weak."

"Sokusai!" Kawaji began heatedly.

Sano and the others involuntarily winced at the word.

"It's true, the government that we have today ensures a tentative peace for the public," Kikome said, dark eyes glowing slightly orange as it reflected the leaping flames. "But to turn to a man who has thrown away the path of killing to embrace this peace is a low move on part of the government. To ask _me_, of all people, is also a ridiculous and desperate maneuver."

She sighed, brushing a few strands of hair from her face.

"The Meiji government took someone dear away from me," she continued. "The injustice of its actions, the rage that I felt for it, the helplessness of seeing someone I loved die in front of me…" Her eyes closed as she recalled the grief, the fear, the anger, ten years ago. "I was only fifteen, and I became driven by revenge, by a need to kill the people who killed my lover. I changed, my relationships changed. The person I am now, my disposition and personality, my assassinations, my actions, they are the makings of this government. Everywhere I look, I am reminded by the losses of the people I cared for during the Bakamatsu…I isolated myself in the mountains to never have to see these reminders again. I have never cared for Japan's government. I only care for those around me, those tangible to me. I never worried, for I knew that I could survive without such a destructive thing as the government."

She opened her eyes and stared at Okubo, her vision blurry as she struggled with the heavy weight of her burdened past, her mourning…for Souzou, for the Sekihou, and for Okita, whose death she had only heard of recently.

"Knowing that the government has done so much to me…" Her vulnerable, grieving expression brought a mixture of emotions onto Okubo's face. "…you still expect me to have the heart to help you?"

She felt Kenshin's hand on her shoulder, soothing her. Just like the times when they comforted each other after weary training sessions and Master's scolding. She felt like a child again.

"Kenshin…is also no longer Hitokiri Battousai," Kaoru said determinedly. "We will not let you take him to Kyoto."

"Fools," Kawaji breathed. "You should know how important this is! The fate of Japan—"

"Enough, Kawaji," Okubo interrupted. "This is not a decision I expected to be made today. Himura, Nato, I will give you a week to decide. I hope for a good answer."

He stood up to leave.

"Okubo-dono," Kenshin said quietly. "You look much wearier than you did ten years ago."

Okubo gave a faint-hearted smile. "It's much harder to build a new era than to destroy an old one."

The doors slid shut behind the two officials.

The sky had grown dark. Kikome had not taken into consideration the time…she wondered what Saitou was doing. Her body felt lethargic, like a dead-weight chain was constricting her feet.

"Kikome," Kenshin said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to stay for dinner?"

She breathed in deeply and let it out. It made her feel better.

"No," she said finally. "Saitou might be looking for me."

"You two are close?"

"Somewhat. But before I leave," she glanced at the audience, "I'd like to speak with you."

They walked out in the courtyard. The sky grew gradually darker, and the moon began to come out.

"What's your decision?" she asked frankly.

He laughed. "Hasty, aren't you?"

She shrugged. "It's my nature."

"I don't really know," Kenshin admitted. "I want to say 'no,' but seeing Okubo-dono like that…I suppose you'll say no?"

"Actually…" she hesitated. "Kenshin, I'm not heartless."

"I know that," he said reassuringly with a grin. "We've known each other long enough to know each other's personality. Different as you may have become, I know that you're not a cold-blooded killer."

She sighed in relief. "I don't care about the government, but there are people I care about. Saitou…you…I don't know if I could just stay back and watch as you two went to Kyoto."

Kenshin understood. "You're afraid."

Kikome nodded unwillingly. "I'm strong, Kenshin. I'm not being arrogant; I know I am. But I'm only strong physically. I also know my emotional capabilities. If one of you were to…die, then…"

Kenshin cut her off in a brief hug.

"Don't worry," he said, patting her back. "I have no intention of dying. I'm not even going."

"You might change your mind," she said worriedly. "And Saitou will go. Kenshin," she broke apart from him, "If you go, I will as well. If Saitou goes, so will I. I can't stand by and watch either of you leave alone."

Kenshin nodded slowly. "Your decision is yours to make. Though it may influence mine…"

She shook her head vigorously. "Don't let it," she said fiercely. "You've found people here, people who love you and wish the best for you. The Kamiya girl, the young boy, the doctor, and Sano, too, they cherish you dearly. Don't throw that happiness away in a moment of weakness to save the government."

"Then why are you?"

"Because I'm not throwing anything away. I have nothing to lose, Kenshin. There is no one," she smiled bitterly, remembering green eyes and a strong hand gripped around her throat, "who cherishes me to that degree."

She began to walk away, her sword clanging noiselessly against her leg.

"Kikome, we're still friends, aren't we? Nakama who've known each other for forever?"

She smiled. "Yeah. No hard feelings left."

"It was good to see you, Kikome."

"Mm. You too, Kenshin."

She left, shutting the doors behind her, leaving a friend who had finally found his place and happiness. Her heart felt heavier.

*************

Kaoru watched anxiously as Kenshin spoke with the young woman. A multitude of questions flew through her head. How old was she? How close were they? How strong? How dangerous? What did Kenshin feel about her? Kaoru felt guilty spying on them when the woman had implied the need for privacy, but Kaoru's curiosity and worry overwhelmed the guilt.

"Hey, Missy."

She jumped.

Sanosuke peered over her shoulder.

"Spying isn't good for you, you know?"

"But I'm so _worried_!" she said agitatedly. "I thought Kenshin and I were close, but now all of a sudden this beautiful and strong and scary woman comes up and tries to take him away!"

"Kikome's not trying to take anyone away, Missy," Sano sighed. Kaoru seriously was having a panic attack. "She's against the government anyway."

"What do you know about her?" Kaoru wailed. "How close are you two exactly?"

He looked annoyed, but Kaoru didn't care. She wanted to know how the dangerous woman was able to intertwine herself into the lives of her friends.

"She was a part of the Sekihoutai," Sano said exasperatedly. "She was Captain Sagara's woman."

Kaoru's eyes widened as she absorbed the startling information.

"She was _what_?"

"Captain Sagara's woman," Sano repeated. "All the stuff she was saying about how the government took away her lover, that was him."

Kaoru's guilt seemed to intensify for seeing her in such a bad light.

"She was stronger than the rest of us," Sano was saying. "But she was really young, only fifteen at the time. The attack against us was too sudden—Captain Sagara pushed her off the cliff to save her. I had no idea she became Sokusai though…I guess it was sort of reasonable. What Katsu and I were too weak to do, to carry out revenge, she was strong enough. If she and Kenshin have the same techniques, I'm betting that she's stronger right now."

Kaoru turned to stare at the woman again. She was twenty-five? No way…

They kept talking. The woman's face seemed agitated and distressed, not at all like the cool and collected woman she had seemed like when she had stopped Kenshin and Saitou's match. Kaoru felt a bristle of jealousy. During the fight, her voice had not reached Kenshin's, despite her tears and cries.

And yet, in a split second, this woman had intervened and made both of them stop. She seemed close to both of them, and both had listened to her. She was strong, commanding, charismatic.

Kaoru saw Kenshin hug the woman.

"Whoa," she heard Sano say under his breath. "I didn't know they were that close…"

But the woman pushed Kenshin away after a few moments, still talking with him, worried, shaking her head. What were they saying? Kaoru wanted to get closer, but Kenshin might notice then…

Finally, the woman left, disappearing into the darkness. Kenshin looked after her for a while, then turned to come back inside.

"Kaoru-dono, were you worried that she would attack me?"

So he knew anyway.

"N-no," she stammered. "I was just…looking."

"Missy here is worried that you two have a special relationship," Sano said bluntly.

"It's nothing like that," Kenshin laughed. "We're what you would call 'best friends.' We've known each other for…well, forever."

"Is she coming back?" Kaoru said shamefacedly.

Kenshin looked at her, eyes not as soft as they were before.

"Kaoru-dono," he said gently, though the tone did not reach his eyes. "Please don't treat Kikome like that."

But he called her without an honorific…

"Kikome is a good girl," he said. "Unlike Saitou, who is hard to get along with despite his sense of justice, Kikome is amiable once you get to know her. She stopped me today forcefully, but she knew it would bring me to my senses. After all, the one she yelled at was Saitou, right?"

Kenshin patted her on the head.

"Don't worry," he said, softening again. "Let's turn in for today. It's been a long day."

Kaoru followed him obediently, her thoughts etched with worry. But it would all be all right. Kenshin wouldn't leave. It was impossible.


	14. Midnight Visit

**Chapter 12: Midnight Visit**

Saitou had left the dojo annoyed. The sun was setting in the sky, blood red. The temperature was irritatingly humid, and he had just had one of the most fun moments he'd had in ten years interrupted. He blew out an exasperated breath and made his way to Shibumi's house.

Sokusai's lecture was nagging him. Despite her claim that she disliked Battousai, she had stopped them in an instant upon seeing his condition. The worry in her eyes had been for Battousai, not him.

Saitou caught sight of his reflection as he passed by a manmade lake and smirked. He was a mess; dried blood caked his forehead and chin. The pain in his jaw had dulled to nothing but a constant throb and his head ached painfully, but the wounds were nothing. He had suffered worse before. Nevertheless, Saitou chose to walk through the alleys rather than the bustling streets; his condition would cause unneeded attention.

He arrived at the bottom of Shibumi's home and began to ascend the wooden stairs. Sokusai had noticed Akamatsu outside the dojo after only being there for a split second. "A rat's in the bushes." Saitou smiled. Nice metaphor.

Akamatsu was already speaking frantically with Shibumi.

"Okubo?" Shibumi said craftily. "Excellent! I could bribe Saitou into telling me his weakness, then I could become the next Director!"

Akamatsu was not as certain. "That's too dangerous for me. I think I'll lay low for a little while, go somewhere safer, like Shanghai…"

Saitou walked into the room.

"I know a safer place than Shanghai. How about you try hell?"

With one stroke of his blade, he disconnected Akamatsu's head from the rest of his body. It fell to the ground with thud.

"S-Saitou!" Shibumi's expression dawned with horror. "W-what do you want?"

"You Ishin-Shinshi think that you were the ones who created this era. However, we, the Shinsengumi, also have responsibility as the losers. The only reason I work for the Meiji government as a secret agent is to remove the ticks who feed on it. My job then is the same as my job now. Be it Okubo or anyone else who drowns in his own desires and harms the country, I will cut him down by my law of Aku, Soku, Zan."

"W-wait, if it's money you want, I have it—"

"You can tame a dog with food," Saitou said dangerously. "You can tame a man with money. But _nothing_, can tame a wolf of Mibu."

Saitou slashed forward abruptly, blood splattering over the walls and his uniform.

He stood still for a moment, surveying his work.

"A wolf is a wolf. The Shinsengumi is the Shinsengumi. And a hitokiri is a hitokiri…" a vindictive smile crept to his face, "…isn't that right, Battousai?"

He left the room, satisfied. It was late; the moon peered behind the clouds as the streets of Tokyo emptied. Saitou strolled past the hotel where Sokusai was staying, and paused. He wondered if she was still angry with him…a desire to see her despite the late hour crept up in his mind. Before he rationalized his whim, he slipped through the side doors and made his way to her room. The lights were off—perhaps she was already asleep.

Saitou slid the doors opened and walked noiselessly in. Sokusai laid curled up on one side on a futon, breathing quietly. Her long hair laid untidily on the pillow. She looked incredibly vulnerable, unaware of his presence. He scanned the room for bandages, ointment…she had to have a first-aid kit _somewhere_. He caught sight of a lamp in the corner of the room.

He lit it, the yellow glow illuminating the room. Sokusai stirred in her sleep, eyes opening. Such a light sleeper.

She groaned as she sat up. "Saitou-san? Is that you?"

Sokusai was still incredibly beautiful aside from her weary appearance.

He put a finger to his lips. "Shh. Yeah, it's me.'

She grimaced as she appraised his face.

"You're all bloody…didn't you clean up?"

"Don't have bandages," he lied. "And my place is far from here…do you have a first-aid kit or something?"

She pointed to a cabinet to the right. "In there…I'll help you…"

She made a move to stand up. He pushed her shoulder down lightly, keeping her in sitting position.

"It's alright, I'll get it."

Sokusai did not complain—she looked exhausted. Exactly how late was it?

Saitou opened the cabinets and took out the kits, examining the contents. There seemed to be enough bandages and poultice. He brought them to her and sat down beside her. She rummaged through them, first removing a bottle of water and wetting it with a cloth.

"You look…terrible," Sokusai said frankly. "I thought Kenshin was beat up, but you're not that well off yourself…"

Her thin fingers trailed over his face, exploring for wounds.

"One in the head…" she murmured. Her fingers examined his chin. "Chin, too. Hit with the sheath?"

He nodded, closing his eyes to her cool touch. He heard her sigh. He felt a cool, dampened cloth touch his wounds, wiping away the blood. She was surprisingly gentle; he had expected a bit more animosity after ditching her today. Perhaps she was too tired to do anything. There was the rustling of bandages, the popping sound of open lids…Saitou winced as the poultice touched his forehead.

"Sorry," she apologized softly. "For this…and for getting angry earlier too."

He opened his eyes but said nothing, surprised.

"I'm not going to use any bandages…they'll make you look stupid. You don't really have that many cut wounds…mainly bruises."

She shut the lids of the medicines.

"Anywhere else?"

"He actually hit me in the back of the neck," Saitou admitted, turning around slightly so she could examine.

"Saitou-san…I can't see, your jacket collar covers your neck."

He smirked. "You want me to take my clothes off?"

She must have been dead tired—there was no retort.

"Just your jacket, Saitou-san."

He unbuttoned his jacket, laying it beside him as she analyzed the damage to his neck. Her delicate fingers danced over the surface of his skin.

"My goodness," she muttered. "It's all black and blue…you let down your guard, didn't you?"

"I was just taken back by his quick reversion back to Hitokiri Battousai."

"Tsk…" she shook her head in disapproval. "Miraculously, I don't think anything's broken. I won't splint it then…"

"Massage my shoulders a little," he said, leaning against her hands.

"It would do you some good…you're all tense."

Saitou entered a state of peace. The blood pounding in his head and the rushing sound past his ears, the most intense match that he had experienced in ten years…it contrasted so largely with the serenity he felt now. Sokusai's pale hands worked deftly, kneading his shoulders like she was kneading bread. He smirked.

"What are you smiling about?" he heard her ask.

"I just thought you were massaging me like you'd massage a lump of dough."

"Terrible analogy," she growled. "Fine, I won't then."

"I didn't say it was bad."

She sighed, her hands dropping to her sides. Saitou felt a weight against his back—probably her head.

"What's wrong?" he inquired, slightly worried.

"You aren't going to ask?" she said. "About Okubo? About my decision?"

"I know you well enough to know that you're going to say no," Saitou chuckled. "That's fine."

That way, she would be out of harm's way. Saitou had not thought of the danger that Shishio posed for her until now—it was better to keep her in Tokyo out of Shishio's interest…

"Looks like you don't know me well enough. Saitou-san, I'm going to Kyoto."

He turned to look at her.

"What?" he said incredulously. "Why? You don't care about Japan."

"I know my unpatriotic disposition annoys you," she said sourly. "But still…I care about you, about Kenshin. I told him already: if one of you goes, then I will as well. To take care of you. Protect you. Make sure you're okay."

He gripped her shoulders.

"I don't need you to protect me," he said coolly. "Neither does Battousai. I don't intend on dying, so if that's your reason, don't come."

Her eyes changed to a black pit of hurt.

"Saitou-san, no one _intends_ on dying. Souzou didn't. Okita-kun didn't. But they did."

She touched his cheek lightly. Up close, her eyes looked slightly red and swollen. Had she been crying? He couldn't imagine her crying like any other woman.

"I've been alone for so long…I've just met you and Kenshin after a ten year separation. Do you honestly think I could just stand by and watch if you two simply waltzed into the arms of possible Death?"

She withdrew her hand and stifled a yawn. Saitou had forgotten the late hour.

"You should probably get going…" she said, wiping away the moisture from her eyes after the yawn.

"I'll stay here."

Sokusai blinked. "What?"

"Just let me sleep here."

"Saitou-san, I only have one futon."

He shrugged. "It's big enough for two people."

"Absolutely _not_."

Saitou leaned close to her. "Sokusai, if you really care for me that much, you certainly wouldn't make me walk three miles back to my place in the dead of night, right? Don't worry, I won't try anything funny."

Sokusai looked like she was about to retort with a sarcastic comment, but refrained. She yawned again.

Cute. Like a cat.

"It is late…" she mused. "Ugh, Saitou, you usually get your way with things."

She laid back down and scooted over. Saitou hadn't been lying; the futon was abnormally large for one person.

"Hurry up," she said drearily, sleep already claiming her. "You're letting the warmth escape."

Saitou doused the light and slipped under the covers. He was pleased with her weak will in the area—he had her exhaustion to thank.

"No funny business," she said with more weariness than threat. "And make sure you're gone before Miyuki comes tomorrow."

She was out like a light. Saitou laid on his back, staring at the ceiling, listening to her breathing return to their normal evenness.

Minutes passed.

"Don't come to Kyoto," he said to her back. There was no answer. Ignoring him? Or asleep?

He moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. No reaction. Asleep then.

He buried his face in her hair, taking in the scents of soap, light perfume, and…a mountain type of freshness.

No one had ever meant so much to him. Save for Japan, nothing was on the same level as this woman. He knew, that if push came to shove, he would even abandon the country he had served faithfully for his entire life for a mere woman.

But she was not just a mere woman. She was perfect. Imperfect. Strong. Weak. The components of human nature. And because of him, and Battousai, she would walk headlong into the face of danger.

To keep them safe.

But Saitou would not let her do that. Rather than she protect him, he would protect her. His arms tightened around her. Such a tiny body, so petite, so fragile. Her doll-like face, her dark eyelashes and crimson lips, breathing so gently like a summer breeze. No harm would come to her.

He would protect her, keep her safe. Whatever danger that laid in store for them, Saitou would be her guard, her refuge. She would stay alive, no matter what the cost.


	15. Spar

**Chapter 13: Spar**

Kikome woke up abruptly, feeling unnaturally warm. She turned on her side and found herself face to face with a sleeping Saitou, whose arm was draped over her shoulder protectively.

She blanched.

How did he get here? Her mind raced back to the night before. She vaguely remembered seeing him in the dead of the night…attending his wounds…she had let him stay? And sleep in the same bed with her?

Kikome shuddered involuntarily. She must have been half-asleep. She couldn't think of one reason why should _would_ let him stay, no matter how late it was or how far away he lived.

"Saitou," she said softly.

No answer.

She shook his shoulders lightly.

"Saitou," she said again, louder.

He opened his eyes groggily. They were still a beautiful gold even in the morning.

"What?" he said, annoyed that he had been disturbed.

"Why are you here?" she whispered, ignoring his irritated expression. He didn't look like much of a morning person. Wolves prowled at night.

He groaned. "Sokusai, you _let_ me stay."

"I did not."

"What time is it?"

She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall.

"Six-thirty," she replied.

"Then don't bother me. I don't have to work for another two hours."

He buried his face in the pillow and tried to resume his sleep.

"Saitou, we looked like lovers," she hissed.

"I don't care."

"Get out of my bed!"

He drew his arm tighter around her shoulder, bringing her towards him.

"Kikome, shut up and let me sleep."

She stayed silent, surprised. He had called her by her name. Not Sokusai.

Kikome suddenly remembered that Aoshi never called her by her name. Not once in half a year.

In an effort to dissipate her early-morning rage at Aoshi, she addressed Saitou again.

"Saitou, any moment now, Miyuki is going to check in on us and the situation will be misinterpreted, and I will feel extremely awkward. If you want to sleep, go home and sleep."

He groaned again. "So stingy."

"Too bad."

He yawned as he sat up. It was brought to her attention by his tight-fitting black shirt exactly how…well-built he was.

"You're so cruel," he smirked, pushing back a few strands of hair. "I work late and you kick me out of bed so early."

"You're making us sound a bit too intimate," she scowled.

He moved swiftly out of the bed, donning his jacket and taking his sword.

"Didn't your katana break?" she asked.

"Yeah, Battousai actually used the edge of his sakabatou that time. It's quite sad, really; it carried me through the Bakamatsu."

"Pity."

"I had a spare to kill Akamatsu and Shibumi though."

She scoffed. "Good. Did you let him know that the idiotic bitch contributed to his death?"

"No, sorry."

Kikome sighed. What a pity.

"I'll pick you up for lunch?" Saitou said questioningly.

"Not here…at the Kamiya dojo."

He frowned "Why?"

"_Someone_ has to pay for the immense damage done to the poor girl's home," Kikome said with a faint smile. "You and your destructive fighting."

His frown grew deeper. "Don't stay with them too much."

She nodded, yawning. "It's just a short stop…the others aren't terribly fond of us. I'll drop by and chat for a while, and then you'll pick me up for lunch."

"Not terribly fond is a bit of an understatement," Saitou agreed. "One o'clock then?"

Kikome nodded again. "Now go away."

He patted her head. "You're much more headstrong when you're actually awake. Last night, you hardly resisted."

"Bastard."

With one last sneer, he fit his hat over his head and slipped behind the doors. Kikome dozed off lightly, trying not to think about how big the futon suddenly seemed.

Miyuki woke her two hours later with a gentle shake and a warm breakfast.

"Kikome-san!" she greeted cheerfully. "Did you sleep well?"

Kikome paused a bit before she answered, remembering her dreamless sleep compared to the other nightmare-filled nights before.

"Yes," she said genuinely. "Yes, I slept really well."

"That's good to hear!"

Kikome ate quietly as Miyuki went through her clothes again, debating which one to dress her in.

"Green would be good…maybe lilac? Hm…"

She turned to Kikome.

"Any color you'd prefer, Kikome-san?"

Kikome smiled. "I'm feeling like lilac."

"Of course."

Miyuki removed the plum-colored kimono from the closet as Kikome finished eating and stood up.

"Miyuki-chan, you really need to teach me how to work these kimonos…"

She laughed. "I would, Kikome-san, but then you wouldn't need me anymore! Besides, it's fun dressing you up every morning."

Miyuki tied the obi firmly in place and proceeded to fix up Kikome's hair. She twisted the long black mass into a loose knot and pinned it to one side. Loose strands fell to her shoulder.

"There we go," Miyuki said delightedly. "Makes you look much more casual, no? Okay, now for makeup…"

She rubbed Kikome's cheeks with lotion and applied a pink shade of lipstick. Crimson would contrast with the kimono.

"Kikome-san, are you sure you're not some model or actress?"

"I'm quite sure," Kikome chuckled.

"But you're so pretty…" Miyuki sighed. "Such a waste!"

"You're quite pretty yourself, Miyuki-chan," Kikome smiled. "I'm not anything special."

Miyuki snorted. "I'm nothing compared to you."

She finished up the final touches and showed Kikome her reflection in the mirror.

"I don't think make-up does all that much to you," Miyuki said honestly. "You have such a nice complexion."

Probably from all the hours of sweat and toil in training. Physical exercise helped the body and soul.

Kikome stood to leave.

"Miyuki-chan, I'm not going to be back for lunch, all right?"

"You're not eating alone, are you?"

Kikome shook her head. "No, I'm eating with Sai—I mean—Fujita-san."

Miyuki grinned mischievously. "Have fun!"

Kikome rolled her eyes and left, tucking her purse inside her obi. Her money had depleted by half. There would have been much less had the receptionist not given her a discount for her stay.

The sky was clear blue and the sun shone brightly, contrasting with the blood red color it had been the day before. Kikome arrived at the dojo in twenty minutes, a much longer time than it had been the day before. But she couldn't very well go running at god-like speed all day; it would cause some suspicion, and the kimono hindered her ability to run for a long period of time.

She raised her hand to knock and hesitated. The doctor and the Kamiya girl did not enjoy her presence, and she knew it. They saw her as a threat to Kenshin, even if Kenshin had told them about their past friendship.

The door opened and Sano stuck his head out.

"Whoa."

He scrutinized her face.

"You're cute. Did you come to see me?" He grinned stupidly.

"Sano-chan, don't you _dare_ hit on your captain's woman," she scowled.

He blinked.

"_Kikome?!_ That's _you_?!"

Her scowl became more pronounced. "Yes, it's me."

He blinked again, as if trying to see her in a different light.

"No way," he breathed. Sano turned inside and yelled, "Kenshin! You've got to come see this! It's _Kikome_! And she's dressed like a _woman_!"

"Shut up!" she snarled, flaring a bit. Why did everyone see her as a different person in womanly apparel? It was getting annoying.

Kenshin popped his head in the opening.

"Hey, Kikome," he said amiably. "Want to come inside?"

No comment about the ridiculous get-up. Thank goodness.

"Yeah, that'd be great," she said in relief.

He opened the door wider for her to slip in. She walked ahead of the two men, hearing their conversation.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Sano whispered. "It's Kikome! She looks _gorgeous_."

Kikome frowned. "I can hear you, you know."

"So what? I'm just giving you a compliment."

"It sounds like an insult because of your disbelieving tone."

Kikome took off her sandals and waited on the porch. Kenshin followed and slid open the doors.

"Kaoru-dono, we have a guest," he said.

The Kamiya girl looked at her, appraising. Worry was etched in her face.

"Kenshin," she said, voice strained. "Why do you keep bringing different beautiful women home?"

"Different?" Kenshin said, confused. "Kaoru-dono, this is Kikome."

She suddenly recognized her.

"Oh!" she laughed weakly. "Sorry about that…you look different."

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Kikome replied, slightly embarrassed. "I came today to…apologize on Saitou's behalf."

Kenshin raised an eyebrow.

"Really now," he said skeptically. "He asked you to?"

"You honestly think he would?"

"No, I suppose not…"

Kikome sighed and reached inside her obi for the purse. "Saitou's probably done a bit more damage than necessary to your dojo…so I'll pay for it in his stead."

Kaoru's eyes widened at Kikome's extended hand.

"Oh, no, that's not necessary…"

"Just take it," Kikome urged. "I don't need money, anyway."

"No, it's ok…"

Kikome dropped the purse in Kaoru's hands and turned to face Kenshin.

"I'd better get going then…"

"That quickly? You should stay for a little while."

"Kenshin!" a voice yelled from around the corner of the dojo. "Train me!"

The little boy came into view, a shinai slung around his back.

"Oh!" he said in surprise. "We have a guest!"

He came closer and looked at her.

"Wait a moment…" he said slowly. "Aren't you the girl that came yesterday?"

So he recognized her too. Good to know.

"Yeah."

"Then you can train me too!" Yahiko said excitedly. "Though you might not be able to in a yukata…"

"Yahiko, don't go asking for trouble," Kenshin said warningly. "Kikome's a lot stronger than you think…"

"Well, she can't beat me in a dress anyway," he said boastingly. "I'm strong!"

He reminded her a lot of Sano when Kikome first met him.

"I didn't bring my katana with me, anyway," she said lightly. "So I'm afraid I can't help."

"Fight Kenshin!" Yahiko said, not listening to her. "Aren't you both Hiten users? I want to see you guys fight!"

"I don't think Kikome really wants to," Kenshin began weakly.

"Actually, Kenshin, that's a good idea," Sano interrupted. "I'd like to see that too."

"See what?" The female doctor came out of the room, curious.

"See the two of them fight," Kaoru said uncertainly, gesturing to Kenshin and Kikome.

"Oh, really?" Megumi said, interested. "That would be fun."

Kenshin groaned. "I'm not here to fight for your entertainment!"

"It's not for entertainment!" Yahiko pouted. "It's for my training! Seeing two Hiten Mitsuruugi users in action is perfect!"

Kenshin turned to Kikome. "Do you mind, Kikome?"

"I don't have a katana."

"You can use my shinai," Yahiko offered.

"I'm wearing a yukata."

"You said Kenshin's gotten weaker, so you guys should be even," Sano said.

Kikome took the shinai that Yahiko offered to her.

"Well I suppose there's no harm in sparring for a bit," she said, examining the wooden blade.

Kenshin took his sakabatou and walked into the open courtyard, indicating that Kikome do the same. They stood twenty paces from each other.

Kikome closed her eyes. Kaoru, the judge, yelled, "Begin!"

She could sense Kenshin fly in front of her and anticipated a forward slash. Kikome leaned to the right slightly as the blade missed her barely. He slashed horizontally—she disappeared and reappeared behind him, retaliating. He blocked and was suddenly on the defensive, parrying successive blows.

Kenshin skipped back a few steps and regained his ground. Kikome's eyes remained closed, concentrating on reading his ki. Hiten Mitsuruugi focused on anticipating the opponent by reading their battle aura and emotions. Kenshin had lost his rein on them over the years, and they flowed to her easily.

She dodged each move Kenshin brought efficiently, never moving more than an inch from where the blade would hit. Kikome knew that she had to save energy and that each movement had to be executed perfectly, taking into consideration the heaviness of the yukata and the restraint it placed on her movement.

"Do Ryuu Sen!"

A mass of energy dashed towards here through the earth. Kikome finally opened her eyes and jumped aside, meeting Kenshin's blade as he rushed in for the counter attack.

The shinai was weak and unwieldy; nevertheless, Kikome was ready.

"Ryu Shou Sen!"

She brought the wooden blade upwards toward Kenshin's neck. He avoided it by a hair. "Ryu Tsui Sen!"

Kikome blocked the blade, worried that the shinai wouldn't be able to hold up against the metal sakabatou; it held—barely.

Kikome disappeared again. She had mastered Shinsoku, the god-speed of Hiten, to perfection. Even in her yukata, she was faster than Kenshin. She remembered the days of training, and Shishou insisting that she learn to be even faster than himself because she lacked in strength.

Speed is strength.

She found an opening as Kenshin suddenly stopped, realizing that he could not sense her.

She appeared behind him, an arm's length away, the shinai at his neck

"Match point," Kikome smirked.

He broke out in a smile. "Fast as ever."

There was a sudden break out of clapping. They turned to face their audience.

"That was _amazing_," Yahiko crowed. "I couldn't see half of it!"

"More like you couldn't see any of it," Sano corrected, also clapping. "But seriously, that was pretty incredible."

Sano leaned closer.

"Neither of you even broke a sweat."

Kikome shrugged. "It wasn't that great of a match; we've had better ones."

Kenshin agreed. "Yeah, Shishou could make us fight for hours. The loser wouldn't have dinner."

Kikome smiled. "I usually won those too."

Kenshin rolled his eyes. "You only won because Shishou refused to let the girl starve."

"You're just jealous."

They entered the house where it was relatively cooler.

"Time for lunch, isn't it?" Yahiko piped up. "I'm hungry."

Reminded of her appointment, Kikome glanced at the wall. Ten until one.

"Would you like to eat with us, um…Nato-san?" Kaoru asked politely.

For some reason, Kikome was glad that she didn't use "Sokusai."

"I'll have to decline," Kikome said. "I already told Saitou that we'd have lunch together."

They unanimously frowned.

"He's not that bad," Kikome insisted. "He's just a little…hard to get along with."

"Uh-huh," Sano said doubtfully.

There was a loud knock at the door.

"That's probably him," Kikome said awkwardly. "I better go then…"

"You should just eat with us," Megumi said encouragingly. "I should think that we're better company than he is."

She seemed to be warmer to Kikome than yesterday.

"Sorry," Kikome said, returning Yahiko's shinai to him and proceeding to leave. "Maybe next time."

She slipped into her geta.

"See you, Kikome," Kenshin said cheerfully.

"Bye!" Yahiko said, waving. He seemed to have taken a liking to her. Sano waved a farewell.

She waved hastily and hurried to the entrance. Saitou was already waiting for her outside, smoking calmly.

"Took you long enough," he said, slightly annoyed.

"Sorry." She seemed to be doing a lot of apologizing today.

He looked at her. "You went like _that_?"

Kikome looked up at him, confused. "Like what?"

"In a kimono?"

She remembered what she was wearing. "Oh yeah. Well, Miyuki wanted to dress me up again, so I just came like this."

She examined herself nervously. "Do I look that bad in it? They kept talking about it…"

He blew out smoke and offered her his arm.

"Hurry up," he said. "I'm hungry."

"You didn't answer my question," she frowned. "Maybe I just look bad in purple."

"You don't," Saitou said curtly. "Now let's go."

Kikome looked at him, perplexed. There was an expression on his face that she wasn't accustomed to seeing. Perhaps he just had a bad morning…she sighed and took his arm, walking alongside him. She didn't notice the murmurs of those who passed by, marveling at the couple.


	16. May 14th, 1878

**Chapter 14: May 14th, 1878**

Saitou was annoyed. Irritated. Agitated. It was not helpful that Kikome stood beside him, confused, looking as dazzling as ever. He knew he shouldn't be angry with her; it wasn't her fault. It just annoyed him to the extreme that she would appear in front of Battousai and the Sagara boy looking beautiful and womanly. There was a nagging worry that Battousai, like Saitou, would view her differently after these ten years, when she had grown so feminine.

"Saitou-san," she said hesitatingly.

He looked at her. "What?" he said brusquely.

"Sorry for being late," she said. "My bad…so don't be so angry, okay?"

He sighed, tossing his cigarette aside. He really shouldn't be angry. As long as she didn't develop an elevated level of feelings for Battousai.

"No, I should be the one who's sorry," Saitou said. "There's no reason to be angry with you."

"Bad morning?" Kikome suggested, hesitation leaving her face as she grew more comfortable in the less tense atmosphere.

"Somewhat." Saitou led her to the Akabeko. Though he knew Battousai's group came here often, he was quite certain that they wouldn't come today. Besides, it was a good enough restaurant. Kikome had said that she was tired of noodles.

They settled down in a booth.

"Did I ever tell you my decision about Okubo's offer?" Kikome asked when they finished ordering.

She had terrible memory if she was half-asleep.

"Yeah, you did," Saitou replied.

"What did I say?"

"That you would go to Kyoto."

"Did I tell you why?"

"Yeah…you said it was to protect us." Saitou made a face.

She scowled. "Well sorry if my company is so undesirable."

"It's not," Saitou said. "It's just I'd rather you not go for such a foolish reason."

"You want me to find a better one?"

"It'd make me feel less guilty if you got hurt."

She chortled. "Now you're worried I'm going to get hurt? That's funny."

Their food came promptly and the two stopped their conversation to eat. Saitou realized something.

"I like your hair like that," he said suddenly.

Kikome looked at him intently, not answering.

"What?" Saitou said.

"I'm trying to see if you're joking or not," she said, picking at her food. "I thought you, of all people, would mind my outrageously girly appearance the least."

She was so wrong.

"I'm not joking. Your hair pulled to one side gives you a…younger look."

Kikome scoffed. "As if I don't look young enough. Seriously, the commotion that they made at the dojo…half of them couldn't recognize me at first. But then again, neither could you," she added coolly.

Saitou smiled apologetically. "It's been ten years, Kikome. You've changed a lot."

"Since when have you called me by my name?"

"Since last night."

She frowned. "What exactly happened that all of a sudden we're extremely intimate?"

Saitou's grin widened. "A little this and that."

Her face contorted. "You're lying."

"Yes, I am," he admitted. It was better not to get on her bad side.

She let out a relieved breath.

"You're that worried about sleeping with me?" Saitou said half-jokingly.

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not that loose of a woman, Saitou."

"I know," he said, playing with a few strands of her hair. She slapped his hand away.

"Saitou," Kikome said warningly.

He withdrew his hand and decided to proceed with a more professional topic.

"How long did you say Okubo would give Battousai and you?"

"A week."

"Yesterday was the seventh…so then it would be the fourteenth?" he mused.

"Yes," Kikome answered, finishing her meal and standing up, ready to leave. "Your treat today?"

Saitou left the bill on the table and offered her his arm again. She took it and they left the bustling restaurant.

"You're out of money, aren't you?" he said. "Because you gave the rest to the Kamiya girl?"

"It's your fault," she scowled as he walked her back to the inn.

"Yes, I suppose it is," Saitou agreed. He reached into his pocket and handed her his wallet.

"I don't need it," she said, brushing it aside. "I'll just make a quick trip back to the mountains and come back in a week when I have all my things ready."

He sighed, pushing the wallet into her palm. "I'm not about to let a woman pay for me, no matter how rich she is. But nevertheless, you should go back anyway. Don't forget to come back."

"I won't," she said, withdrawing her arm and disappearing into the inn. Saitou watched after her. He'd have to deal without her presence for a while.

*************

"Miyuki-chan, I'm leaving today."

Miyuki whipped around, dropping the hair ornament she had in her hands.

"What?!" she exclaimed. "But you never told me!"

"I didn't really decide until an hour ago," Kikome admitted. "But I need to return home."

Home. What an odd word. The mountain home she had resided in for years didn't seem like much of a home anymore.

"But…but now we can't see each other anymore!" Miyuki wailed. "What am I going to do in the mornings now?"

Kikome patted her head gently. "It's not like we're not going to see each other forever…I'll be back in a week."

"Really?" Miyuki said wondrously.

"Really," Kikome confirmed. "I'll leave my yukata with you, just in case."

"All right then," Miyuki said, happier. "I'll made sure no one stays in your room while you're gone!"

Kikome smiled. Miyuki's bubbly personality was contagious.

Miyuki left the room, leaving Kikome to change into her masculine apparel. It was much more comfortable. She slipped her katana into her belt and glanced at the mirror. She looked like she couldn't decide between genders; her face was still dolled up with lipstick and make-up, and her hair laid girlishly to one side. Sighing, she washed off her make-up in the wash basin and tied her hair up into a high ponytail. Kikome looked at her reflection again. Much better.

She slipped through the back doors and jogged to the mountain base, feeling freer than she had in a while. No yukata, no make-up, no fake female behind the mask. Now, there was just her, in men's clothing and bandages secured tightly around her chest. This was Sokusai.

Kikome decided to use Shinsoku the whole way back. It would give her body good training, a strain that she needed. Flitting about with the barest trace of her appearance, Kikome disappeared into the identity that she was, alone. No Aoshi, no Saitou, no Kenshin. No burdens. Her soul soared.

The week ended quickly, much to Kikome's disappointment. She had recuperated from the city's bustle, the insecurity that she had felt when she was around faces from ten years ago. She almost regretted having to go back. But she had made Saitou a promise. She would have to return.

The hut had seen no destruction since she was gone. The towering stack of firewood remained untouched by the house. It brought back a wave of nostalgia and familiar pain. The lingering presence of Aoshi was the only thing that pushed Kikome to leave. There had been light spasms of hallucinations while she was here. She had often felt a familiar presence behind her, turning around and hoping to see the emerald eyes sparkling, and seeing nothing.

These were the times that she wanted to cry again.

The morning of May fourteenth arrived, and she was prepared. The katana was secured safely at her side and her purse was once again refilled with money. Kikome considered taking her bow and decided against it; it was large and unwieldy to carry around, though she was fond of it. She decided to take a few changes of men's clothes as well; she was tired of the red outfit she always wore.

Kikome shut the door securely behind her and began her descent down the mountain. The sun was beginning to come out, though the temperature was still abnormally cold. The mountain air bit at her coldly.

The run down was effortless, quick, and easy. She arrived in Tokyo in two hours, panting slightly. There was a commotion in the streets as crowds gathered. Kikome pushed her way through.

"Shocking news!" a newsboy was yelling through the streets, throwing newspapers into the air. "Okubo-kyo's assassination!"

Kikome seized a flying paper automatically and read it feverishly. _Ambushed and killed while riding in his carriage, body was desecrated…_

She cast the paper aside and ran as fast as she could to the police office where Saitou worked. Kikome threw the door aside, pushing past confused policemen and scanning her the room for Saitou.

He found her first.

"Kikome!" he said, grabbing her by the arm. His gold eyes were flashing with anger and worry as he pulled her out of the room.

"What's going on, Saitou?" she asked breathlessly. "I just got here, the crowds, the newspapers, Okubo—"

"It's as you read," Saitou said evenly. "But it was Shishio who killed him. Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"To the Department of Internal Affairs."

"To do what?"

"To meet with Kawaji and Battousai."

They ran side-by-side through the masses, Kikome's pace a bit faster due to Saitou's longer stride. They arrived at the official-looking building and raced up the stairs to a room.

Kawaji and Kenshin were already there.

"This was Shishio's work!" Kawaji yelled, slamming his fist down on the desk. "He must have men all over Japan if he used the news to commit this crime. That coward! He won't ever show his face but he'll use pawns to sap the Meiji government, little by little, until the day they rise up…Okubo-kyo…"

Kikome looked awkwardly at the scene. She could find nothing to say. Neither could the other two.

"Excuse me." An older man entered the room.

"That's Yamayoshi-kyo, governor of a nearby prefecture," Kawaji said, not turning around. "He was the last to speak with Okubo-kyo."

"I came to say goodbye before I returned to my prefecture," Yamayoshi explained. "I never imagined something like this would happen…I was speaking with Okubo-kyo this morning about the dealings with this nation, and his hope for nation to become a nation-state…"

"A nation-state," Saitou repeated, thinking. "A nation where the people decide their own fates, not the superiors over them…it's too good to be true."

"No!" Kawaji said fiercely. "It was an ideal Okubo-kyo believed in! If he had lived…"

"There's something that worries me," Yamayoshi said. "This morning, Okubo, who is normally reserved, was very forthcoming. I don't think he knew he would die, but it seemed like today was a day he thought would change Japan."

Kikome glanced at Kenshin. His face was resolute, his decision made. She knew it as well. He would go to Kyoto.

Kawaji left with Yamayoshi, and the three of them left through another door.

"Kawaji-dono seemed very upset," Kenshin said seriously.

"His position was given to him by Okubo for his talent," Saitou said. "But this isn't just a tragedy. We've lost the last of the Ishin-Sanketsu, as well as great leader. There aren't any skillful men left in our government. Starting today, Japan will begin to fall into anarchy…"

Kikome stayed silent.

"Kenshin," she said finally. "I assume you'll be going to Kyoto now."

Kenshin said nothing.

"Shishio is not going to wait for you," she said tersely. "We should leave as soon as we can."

Kenshin nodded once. "I understand. I'll say my goodbyes today."

"I didn't mean it like that," Kikome said guiltily.

"No, she's right," Saitou said. "Make your goodbyes today; we're leaving soon."

They had arrived at the gate. Kenshin turned to say something, but he didn't.

With a wave, the two parties departed. Kikome walked silently by Saitou, unsure of what to feel, to say.

"Don't think about it," Saitou said. He knew her too well. "It didn't have anything to do with you. Its better for Battousai to say his farewells bluntly than to draw it out."

He placed an arm around her shoulder. She glared at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Comforting you."

She didn't pull away. Kikome's heart felt heavy, the healing that the week up in the mountains had done gone. Death the moment she came back.

May fourteenth, 1878. Saitou held her close to him as they walked back to the inn.


	17. Reopened Wounds

**Chapter 15: Reopened Wounds**

Kenshin had said his goodbyes to Kaoru and left to Kyoto through the land roads, stating that the reasons to avoid the ship were to prevent danger that Shishio might pose to the travelers. Kikome stayed with Saitou as he finished his work in Tokyo before he moved on to Kyoto.

Kikome sat morosely at Saitou's desk as he bustled around, giving orders out to the rest of the policemen. She attracted curious glances because of her masculine attire, sometimes annoyed stares because of her uselessness, sometimes awed expressions because of…something, as she sat and did nothing.

"Kikome, come with me," Saitou said. She stood up obediently and followed him.

"Where are we going?"

"To teach a rooster a lesson."

"What?"

He didn't answer and instead indicated that she follow him. She caught sight the Yahiko boy in the crowd. She understood.

"Don't you _dare_ hurt Sano," she said forcefully.

"Just a light punch or two," Saitou said reassuringly. "I heard he's been making plans to follow Battousai to Kyoto, and we really don't need another reason for him to be getting any weaker."

She followed behind him sullenly. Saitou's idea of a light punch or two was much worse than others' perception of it.

They followed Yahiko through alleys and rows of houses. Kikome recognized the area.

"I think I know where he is," she said. "This is Katsu's place."

Saitou didn't ask for an explanation and instead leaned against a wall, unnoticed as Yahiko talked with Sano.

"You've got to come see Kaoru!" Yahiko was yelling. "She's not doing too well. I've been looking after her all by myself…"

Kikome's lingering guilt grew heavier. It was worse to hear that Kaoru was doing so badly after Kenshin left.

"Yahiko, you've been followed," Sano said curtly, noticing Saitou and Kikome.

"Where do you think you're going?" Saitou asked, as if he didn't know already.

"To Kyoto. Got a problem with that?"

"Yes. It would mean trouble if a weakling like you followed us."

"What was that?" Sano said angrily.

"In battle, targeting an opponent's weakness is the most basic of strategies. If you go to Kyoto, Shishio will be sure to be sure to target you. And even Battousai can not protect you from Shishio. That's why he left you alone."

Saitou pointed a finger at him. "To the Battousai, your existence is nothing more than a weakness."

"Saitou!" Kikome said warningly. He was going overboard.

Katsu's eyes lit up as he recognized her but didn't say anything. It was the wrong time.

Saitou ignored her. "I had to put on a monkey show like Jin-eh did to make him realize this. If you go to Kyoto, you'll ruin it all. You don't have a role in this play yet. Be a good boy and remain backstage."

"So Kenshin thinks I'm a weakness. He left alone because he thought he couldn't protect me…after hearing that, I really want to give him a punch!" Sano said furiously.

"Out of my way Saitou!" he yelled. "Back off, or I'll make you, dammit!"

"Those are my sentiments exactly," Saitou said coolly.

"Saitou," Kikome said again. "Cool off."

"No," he said. "I need to make it clear to him. Go away."

"You were the one that told me to come with you," she snarled.

"Unless you promise not to interfere, go," he said coldly.

Sano looked at her, livid. "Don't you dare interfere, Kikome. This is my fight."

He ran at Sano with a punch, who merely dodged to the right and retaliated with a punch to Sano's injured arm. Blood immediately spewed out.

"That's cheap!" Yahiko shouted. "His arm isn't healed yet!"

Sano whipped up over Saitou, who simply slammed him on the floor.

Sano fell to the ground, wincing.

Saitou stepped on Sano's shoulder brutally, causing him to yell out in pain. Blood splattered around them, drenching Saitou's uniform and the ground around them.

"Stop it!" Kikome raced forward only to be met with Saitou's outstretched arm.

"Don't interfere," he growled.

Sano laid on the ground, unconscious. Saitou looked at Yahiko. The boy looked pale and was shaking slightly. Kikome couldn't blame him; Saitou's killing intent was apparent and murderous.

"As I said, attacking your opponents weak spot is the most basic of tactics," Saitou said, addressing Yahiko. "There's nothing 'cheap' about it. In Kyoto, there won't be any fair fights. Instead, there will be a major bloodbath where the victor is the one who survives. A young boy like you should not get involved with these things. Be good and stay here in Tokyo."

Yahiko's eyes changed, hardening with determination and youthful resolve.

"No," he said firmly, reaching for his shinai.

Saitou cracked his knuckles. "I see…"

Was he seriously going to hurt a little kid?

Kikome pulled his arm back, swearing at him.

"You're kidding, Saitou," she said angrily. "There's no way you're laying a hand on that kid. We're leaving. Now."

"Get out of my way, Kikome," he said frigidly. "I said I was going to teach them a lesson."

"The lesson's been taught," Kikome said in the same tone. "You went overboard. We're leaving _now_."

"Not yet," Sano's voice came from behind them. "That didn't hurt, Saitou. You think that can hurt after you told me that?"

He ran at them. Saitou yanked Kikome back by the collar. She slammed against the wall across from them, head dizzying. Saitou crossed his arms across his chest to block Sano's punch. The force of the blow pushed Saitou against the wall.

"Don't try to stop me, Saitou!" Sano roared. "I'm going to Kyoto no matter what! I'll prove to you with these fists that I'm Kenshin's right hand man!"

"You should know your own limits," Saitou said callously. "You'll prove to me with your fists? Is that what you said?"

"Yeah!"

"Well put!" Saitou scoffed. "Despite the fact that I've torn you to shreds once already."

Saitou unclipped his sword from his waist and dropped it to the ground.

"It's so you can't use the excuse that your opponent had a sword," he explained to Sano's perplexed expression. "This time, I'll fight by your rules. It will be a match of fists."

Kikome turned and left, unnoticed. She was flaring, incensed, at Saitou and his childish ways of teaching. It wasn't like Sano was weak. If he wanted to come to Kyoto, then so be it. If they all wanted to come to Kyoto, then it was their decision.

What the hell was Saitou doing, interfering with their relations? Why did he care? She sat furiously against the wall of an alley and waited. She had left in order not to see Saitou's brutal cruelty in action.

Kikome rested her head between her knees. She had always been aware of Saitou's viciousness for a long time now and had never been bothered by it. Seeing it used against Sano was something she didn't want to watch…

Footsteps. They paused in front of her. She could see his bloody shoes and drenched pants.

Kikome snapped her head up. A feral snarl curled up the corner of her lips.

"Don't look at me like that," Saitou said, his voice silky and smooth, not like the cold tone he had used before.

She stood up. In a flash, the palm of her hand connected with the side of his face as hard as she could manage.

He stepped back, shocked that she slapped him.

"You're lucky that I didn't do that in front of a crowd," Kikome said in a voice lined with latent anger and coldness.

His gloved hand touched his cheek lightly as he looked at her. His expression was hard to read.

"What exactly are you angry about?" he asked, voice dead.

She hissed loudly and stomped away from him. He grabbed her by the shoulder and slammed against the wall, leaning close to her face.

"Don't ignore me," he said coldly.

"Take a bit of your own medicine," she snapped. "I told you to lay off Sano already; you beat him up bad enough once, and you could have taken it easier today. But no, Saitou, you had to prove to the world that you're so freaking strong."

"I didn't get by today unscathed either," Saitou replied frostily.

"Well that's your fault," she said in sardonic triumph.

They stayed still, staring at each other, both of them radiating an aura of anger and impatience. Saitou slowly let go of her.

"You're lucky that I'm such a gentleman," he said, clipping his katana to his belt again. "Had you been one of my subordinates, you wouldn't have gotten away with that."

"Don't talk to me like I'm your servant," she said, striding away. "I'm myself. Don't think that you can threaten me."

Saitou's damn high-and-mighty attitude. Controlling, possessive. Always yanking her around, crashing her against walls. Her back hurt.

He had been so different yesterday. He had walked her home, had gently held her, protective, comforting in a time where she felt the guilt of urging Kenshin to leave Kaoru quickly. Saitou had never spoken to her so coldly, never had physically harmed her.

"Kikome," he said behind her. She ignored him and walked faster.

"Kikome, hang on," she heard him say again. Why did he call her by her name all of a sudden? All those years of "Sokusai, Sokusai," and suddenly they were so close that he could call her without honorifics.

"Kikome, stop," Saitou said, catching her hand and pulling her to a stop.

"What?" she snapped.

"Calm down."

"I am calm."

"No, seriously," he said, suddenly conscious that he was still holding her hand and letting go. "Please calm down. You're absolutely livid."

He let out a breath and looked into her eyes. His golden shimmer had returned.

"I'm sorry," he said gently. "Forgive me?"

Saitou never apologized to people. Never. Kikome felt the guilt magnify as she pushed him away.

"Yeah, it's fine," she said shortly. "Don't worry about it."

"It doesn't sound like it's fine…"

"Just drop it, Saitou." She walked away from him quickly, trying to escape from the culpability and suffocation, the memories that Saitou posed for her, the moments of weakness that she felt around him.

Saitou caught up to her, wrapping his long arms around her shoulders and pulling her to a halt. Kikome did not turn around, nor did she pull away. He drew her closer to his chest, resting his chin on her shoulder when she did not resist. Kikome realized the difference in their heights; Saitou seemed like an immeasurable wall behind her. They remained that way for minutes that stretched on into eternity, the quietness of the atmosphere resting gently on Kikome's shoulders. Time stopped for her as she let a wave of security wash over her.

*************

Saitou had suddenly gone from a state of extreme anger to extreme bliss. He had held her in his arms, tightly, protectively, his head buried in her shoulder like a pillow. He had inhaled all her scents, so sweet, almost delicious. He had been in a haven from the problems of the world. All the burdens he felt placed on him, the assassination of Okubo, the rising problem of Shishio, the uncontrollable feelings that he could not suppress for Sokusai…

The moment she had disappeared from his arms, he had fallen back to earth. She had waltzed out of his protective cage with a soft "Sorry" and had fallen back in step for him.

Saitou now sat at his desk, the serenity from the day before gone as he finished organizing the affairs in Tokyo. He and Kikome would set off for Kyoto tomorrow.

Kikome sat in the corner of the room in a chair too big for her size, curled up and fast asleep. The clock ticked by as the sun began to turn an orange color. It was three thirty. Saitou had heard that the Kamiya girl and her apprentice had boarded a ship for Kyoto, while the Sagara boy had simply chosen the land roads leading there. Hopefully he would get lost and never make it.

Saitou stood up and walked over to the sleeping girl. She looked so peaceful, no flashing eyes, no anger that he had seen yesterday. He had been shocked when she had slapped him. Saitou knew that she never would have if she seriously wasn't angry. He kneeled in front of her.

"Kikome," he whispered by her ear.

She reacted automatically, and in a flash, her sword was at his neck. Her eyes were frenzied, and she held the blade with a slightly shaking grip, panting slightly. He raised his eyebrows in concern.

"It's just me," he said quietly, pushing the katana away. "No need to overreact."

Kikome dropped the blade to the ground, scooting back and recognition registering in her eyes.

"Sorry," she gasped. "Sorry…I-I…"

"Bad dream?" Saitou suggested, returning her blade to her.

"Yeah," she said feverishly. She glanced at the clock. "It's only three thirty. Do you need something?"

"Yes, we need to go to the Kamiya dojo."

"Why? They left yesterday."

"There's someone I need to see, who might be of some use."

She nodded, not needing any further explanation. Kikome seemed to want some space. He obliged, standing up and heading for the door, listening to her soft steps follow him.

They arrived at the dojo within a few minutes, Kikome having calmed down considerably. Saitou pushed open the doors, viewing the scene.

Takani Megumi's back was to them. A young man dressed in a white coat and with a long sheath at his side stroked her cheek with a gloved hand. Saitou thought he heard Kikome gasp.

"Where has Battousai disappeared to?" he was asking.

"I-I don't know," Takani Megumi answered, barely breathing.

"If you don't tell me, I swear I'll kill you."

"Battousai has gone to Kyoto," Saitou answered.

Shinomori Aoshi stood up and walked towards them.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Fujita Goro," Saitou replied, smirking. "As you can see, I'm just a policeman."

Aoshi's eyes flickered over to the petite figure behind him. They lit up in recognition.

"So it's you…Sokusai."


	18. Pain

**Chapter 16: Pain**

Why was he here? _Why_? After that dream, that nightmare of a bloody field and those undying green eyes, he was the last one she wanted to see, the last one on earth she would want to meet again. The insecurity she felt from after her nightmare seemed to double as she stood face to face to Aoshi, his face unmarred by scars, still perfect.

Just his eyes. They were so cold, so black, like coal.

"Sokusai," he repeated. "Why are you so shocked to see me? Didn't I say I would take my revenge on Battousai?"

He appeared miraculously in front of her. Kikome was frozen, her feet rooted to the ground. Aoshi was there, radiating glorious beauty, radiating glorious danger.

His gloved hand touched her cheek lightly, trailing from her temple to her chin.

"You look beautiful," he breathed, leaning towards her to kiss her. She couldn't move. His lips touched hers gently, smoothly, like so many times before. But so different. There was no ardor, no passion, no warmth. Like ice.

Kikome could feel her heart split open in pain. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to will herself to move, to push him away, to hit him, to inflict as much pain on his body as she felt inside her.

Kikome heard the simultaneous clicking sounds of unsheathing blades, and Aoshi broke away from her to see the silver end of Saitou's sword.

"Get the hell away from her," she heard Saitou say. "And sheathe your blade." His voice was imbued with the coldest fury and hatred imaginable. She could barely hear him.

Kikome's head spun and her legs grew weaker. She collapsed, hoping to hit the ground, hoping to feel some sort of physical pain that would jog her out of the emotional heartbreak. But she didn't. Saitou caught her in time and brought her slowly to her feet, his gold eyes never leaving Aoshi.

Aoshi looked at the two of them nonchalantly. "Oh, so you two are together now?"

"It's nothing like that," Saitou said with dangerous calm. He turned to her, making sure that she could stand on her own.

"Are you all right?" he whispered, worry his face. "Can you stand?"

Kikome nodded frantically, though she didn't feel any better. She was going to be sick. Saitou let go of her gently and turned to address Aoshi.

"You two know each other?" he said in the same deadly calm.

"We're well acquainted," Aoshi said, unfazed by Saitou's clear murderous intent. "Now tell me, where has Battousai gone?"

Kikome could hear Saitou explain, could see that neither ever let go of their hilts.

"Very well then," Aoshi said when Saitou finished. "I'll just wait for him to come back."

"He might never," Saitou said. "Shishio may kill him."

"Impossible," Aoshi scoffed. "I'm the only one who can kill Battousai."

Aoshi passed by Saitou to leave, stopping by Kikome, who was leaning heavily against the wall.

"Sokusai," he said. His cold hand touched her cheek again. Kikome caught Saitou finger the hilt of his katana lovingly.

"Sokusai, I wanted to see you again."

False words. They were all wrong, everything, every freaking bit of emotion she had left in her, they were wrong, manipulated by this damn man. She slapped his hand away forcefully. She wouldn't be controlled by him. She refused to be manipulated like a doll, a toy, a tool, just like she had been in the mountains. Kikome reached his gaze, her eyes hardened and cold.

Aoshi smirked. "Now that's more like you."

He leaned over to kiss her again. She heard the clicking sound as he unsheathed his blade. She would not be diverted.

Her katana met his kodachi midway. Aoshi took a step back, not surprised that she caught him despite the distraction. Her fury grew as she realized that he wanted to kill her, even now, to kill her off with a cruel kiss and feigned loving words. Kikome rammed the hilt of her sword up his chin with all the strength she could muster. He barely flinched despite the blow.

Saitou caught her arm in the middle of her next attack, trying to reel her back to sanity.

"Let me go!" she shrieked. "Let me go! I'm going to kill him, I'm going tear him to pieces, let go of me, Saitou!"

"Stop it," he said firmly, catching both of her hands as she writhed in his cage-like grip, looking at Aoshi with eyes driven by vengeance and a sadistic desire for him to feel pain. "Stop it. Calm down."

He addressed Aoshi.

"Get the hell out of here," he said coldly, restraining Kikome as she attempted to get away from him.

Aoshi gave a pitiless smirk and left, his coat waving in the wind.

Kikome's will collapsed as she saw him disappear. Her legs failed her once again and she crumpled to the floor, gripping one of Saitou's outstretched arms tightly. Saitou brought her to her feet again, gently, slowly, carefully.

"Kikome," he said softly.

"Why did you tell him where Ken-san went?" Megumi yelled from across the yard.

Kikome felt Saitou twist his body to talk to Megumi. Her ears tuned out their conversation as she watched past the swinging doors. Aoshi's presence lingered there, in front of her, inside her. Her heart contracted, like someone was squeezing it in the palm of his hand. She knew who the palm belonged to. Tears poured out of her eyes like tiny rivulets of sorrow, falling silently to the ground. Saitou's grip tightened around her waist as he peered around.

"Kikome—"

He stopped upon seeing her tears, the unspeakable pain she felt inside of her welling up and expressed without words, but simply through the look on her face.

*************

She was crying. How the hell was Sokusai able to cry? Saitou recalled the variety of feelings he had seen her feel the days before. Guilt, insecurity, anger. He hadn't thought of them much; she wasn't a shallow person, so it was obvious that she held some assortment of emotions.

But tears? Sorrow? The terrible pain that was shown through her features? It wasn't possible.

But there she was, weeping silently as she stared past the doors into a memory that he played no part in. Saitou wanted to bring her closer to him, to comfort her, to wipe away the symptoms of womanly emotion and fear. He brought his hand up to her cheek, smearing the small droplets of pain away and holding her porcelain countenance delicately in his hands.

"You all right?"

She nodded, biting her lower lip and looking away from him.

"No, look at me," said Saitou, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes looked lifeless, the usual glimmer and flashes buried in her grief. He sighed and let go of her. He was aware of Takani Megumi's curious stare at them.

Saitou guided Kikome out into the darkening streets of Tokyo. She followed him blindly, eagerly, trying to get away from the last place that Shinomori Aoshi had been. He did not question her about their relationship; Shinomori's simple "well-acquainted" description had been an understatement. An idiot could realize the intimacy, the tension between the two. There had been a special meaning between them, an understood love that Saitou coveted.

The moment Shinomori Aoshi had kissed her, something inside of Saitou had clicked. A dam of self-control had overflowed, unchecked, and the beast inside of him roared as Saitou had unsheathed his katana and brought it to Shinomori's neck. He had used every ounce of self-restraint to prevent himself from lopping of his head in the heat of the moment.

They arrived back at Saitou's office. He lit a cigarette and smoked for a moment, calming down the ferocity of an untamed beast within him and watching Sokusai. Her eyes were still deadened.

"Kikome, stay downstairs while I work," he said. He needed to be away from her for a while.

She nodded dumbly and entered the room without another word. Saitou sighed and returned to the mass of papers still awaiting him. For once, he relished the thought of a distraction.

The clock ticked by incessantly. It was ten-thirty p.m. Saitou cleared his desk of the last remaining orders, looking instead at a map. Shingetsu village had been wiped off the map. Saitou blew out a ring of smoke and stared blankly at the geographic demonstration in front of him. It was another one of Shishio's moves…though Saitou could not think of why he would take over a simple village with only twenty or so families. Perhaps the onsen there would soothe Shishio's burns…but that was a stupid reason to take of a village for.

Saitou stood up and tucked the map into his breast pocket. He hadn't seen Kikome in the last six hours, and it felt surprisingly refreshing. He had skipped dinner, not bothering to go down and check if she had as well. If she was hungry, then there was a café right next door that she could easily go to.

He descended the stairs and scanned the lower office.

"Where did the woman I came with go?" Saitou asked a late-shift worker.

The worker shrugged. "She just suddenly got up and left."

"How long ago?"

"About two hours ago."

"Did she say where she went?"

"No."

Saitou bolted out the doors and glanced around the streets which had less people than before. There were less lights as shops began closing down. He instinctively ran to the nearby café to check; perhaps she was eating dinner.

Kikome's slender figure was seated in a corner, alone with nothing but a small cup. A waitress refilled it with sake and laid the bottle by her, departing.

Saitou approached the lone woman. She looked slightly disheveled, several black strands curling around her neck limply.

"What are you doing?" Saitou asked. Her eyes were still lifeless, slightly out of focus. She didn't answer, drinking deeply from her glass and emptying it in one gulp.

Kikome reached for the sake bottle. Saitou snatched it up and brought it to his nose, smelling the liquid to measure the amount of alcohol in it. He could smell the alcoholic stench from a foot away. She was basically drinking straight-up liquor.

Saitou motioned for the waitress to come by.

"Has she eaten anything?" Saitou inquired.

The waitress shook her head. "She just ordered some sake."

"Of this kind?"

"Yes," she answered, nodding.

"How much?"

"Two bottles, so far."

Saitou looked at Kikome in disdain. She was not looking at him, instead staring off into space, into a haven where pain was numbed. He shook his head slightly and handed the bottle back to the waitress.

"She doesn't need the rest," he said, though there was little left of its contents. "Do you need the bill?"

Another shake of the head. "She paid before we served her."

One of Sokusai's customs.

Saitou shook Kikome's shoulders a little. She finally seemed to see him…somewhat.

"Saitou?" she said, voice soft and hazy.

"Yes," he said curtly. "Can you stand?"

"Why would I want to stand?" She was slurring her words slightly. Definitely close to drunk. He always remembered her to have relatively high alcohol tolerance…she must have drunk an excessive amount to dull her senses.

"To go home," he answered, though he knew it was futile. She couldn't walk home in this state.

Sighing, he picked her up from the bench and carried her in his arms. She was light…almost too light. She must have not been eating well.

With a nod to the curious waitress, Saitou walked out of the café, Kikome nestled against his chest, arms folded in front of her. Where to take her? Perhaps back to the inn would be the best idea…she had told him that she was staying in the same place, in the same room. He crossed the street and walked a bit further.

Saitou slid open the side door and walked as silent as a cat down the hall, hoping no one was waiting for her. His wish was granted as he neared her room; no lights were on. He slipped through the doors and laid her on the bed.

She stirred slightly and opened her eyes blearily. Kikome stared at the him, eyes softer than he had ever seen before. Her pale hand came close to his cheek, caressing it lightly.

He hardly breathed. Was she _trying_ to make him attack her? His restraint was already being tested, with the perfect environment and atmosphere before him. Her hand on his cheek was like an enticing perfume. There was a limit to his self-control.

Her arms tightened around his neck as she brought herself closer to him. Her amber eyes grew into a dark pool, hypnotizing him, immobilizing him. He could smell every scent she had, from alcohol to the subtle scent of the mountains that she always had to a sweetness he could not describe.

Saitou's body overruled his mind. He could no longer hold himself back, no longer be the gentleman who could respect her wishes. She laid in his arms, her scent beckoning, defenseless, unable to struggle. He kissed her fiercely, passionately, every muscle in his body enveloping her tiny figure as he pushed her back on the futon, stroking her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders. Her lips, perfectly sculpted, parted slightly, as she gasped for air. His tongue slithered in as he kissed her intensely, unable to stop, unable to let go.

Sokusai did not resist. Could not resist. Whatever the reason, Saitou didn't care. All he knew, all he cared about, was the fact that the woman he loved, lusted for, was laying helplessly in his arms and that he could fulfill whatever his body yearned to do.

He glided her robes off her shoulders, untied the knot around her waist. His hands slipped under the thin cloth, touching every bit of bare skin he could manage to find. Saitou finally broke of the kiss and began his descent down her neck, nuzzling it, kissing the hollow of her neck and collarbones.

His hands sought after the knot that secured the bandages around her chest and pulled it apart. He slid his hands up her bare back, smooth and cold. So silky, so soft. He had never understood the loveliness of a woman in his arms until now.

The moonlight shone in through a slightly open window, illuminating her already pale face. Saitou stopped his ventures and stared at her.

In the moment, he fully understood the meaning behind Sokusai's existence being born under the moon. She was its entity, its disciple, a product of its creation. Her light skin glittered under it, her dark lips thrown into a brightness that accentuated their fullness and perfect sculpture. She was panting slightly, her dark eyes closed, the long eyelashes curled to perfection.

She was there. Hopeless to defend against him, playing the role of the woman. He was free to take her, to make her his, to ravish her completely and satisfy himself with her cool touch.

He stopped.

He could not continue, not in a spasm of gentlemanliness but instead a moment of sudden elucidation of his situation.

The words she had said earlier came floating back to his thoughts. "I'm not that loose of a woman, Saitou."

If it were any other woman, he wouldn't give a damn. They could be devastated, hurt, furious, and he wouldn't care. But this was her. Sokusai. Kikome. The only woman he had cared for in his life, the only person he had ever cared for years. Someone who outweighed Japan on his scale of importance.

Her breath came evenly as she fell asleep, oblivious to Saitou's severe internal struggle of mind versus body. He finally made his decision.

Saitou unbuttoned his jacket and tossed it aside, then placing the blankets over the small figure. He scooted in with her and draped his arm securely around her shoulders, just like the first time they had slept together.

A sharp pain jabbed inside his chest. He ignored it, knowing the source and impossibility of curing it.


	19. Shingetsu Village

**Chapter 17: Shingetsu Village**

Saitou woke up very unexpectedly. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. It looked unfamiliar. He blinked, trying to remember where he was.

"Are you awake?" he heard a euphonious melody ask.

Saitou bolted upright and stared around. Kikome was sitting on a large, comfortable chair, head resting on one knee and her sword laying across the other. She was fully clothed, having already taken a bath, her ebony hair waving down her back. Her lovely visage was completely blank, an impossible mask to read.

"I didn't want to disturb you," she said calmly. "But I've been waiting anxiously for you to awaken."

Saitou didn't respond, perturbed by her peculiar serenity.

"I promise that I won't be angry, no matter what your answer is," Kikome continued in the same deadly tranquil tone. It was like the calm before the storm. "But I want you to answer honestly…what did we do last night?"

Saitou paused, unsure of what to say.

"I suppose I can't say that 'nothing' happened," he said finally.

"No, I suppose you can't," she agreed. "Considering where my clothes were when I woke up."

Saitou winced. "But nothing serious happened."

"Instead of beating around the bush," she said evenly, "I'm going to put this crudely. Did we…do it?"

"No."

"Are you lying?"

"No."

"So we didn't do it."

"No," he said, tired of repeating the same word.

The blank mask broke. Every muscle in her body relaxed, every bit of tension disappeared, as her elegant face broke out into a smile of deep, profound relief and the harsh grip on her katana loosened considerably. Kikome laughed weakly, shakily. Saitou could see the unfathomable significance the subject had on her, the incredible worry that she had about the possible scenario.

He felt a twinge of annoyance. If she was so worried about the possibility, then she shouldn't have gotten so drunk in the first place. She obviously didn't see him in the same light as other men, with the possibility of satisfying his every whim with her just as easily.

Saitou stood up and grabbed his jacket from off the ground. He walked over to her and placed a firm grip under her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"You're quite lucky that I was able to contain myself," he said sharply. "Had it been any other woman, I would have gratified my every impulse and caprice. Don't take the circumstances between us too lightly."

He strolled to the door and slipped it open.

"I'm picking you up in an hour. Don't be late."

He left without a backward glance.

*************

Kikome had had a paroxysm of surprise and convulsive worry when she woke up in the morning. Her upper robes were strewn beside her and the bandages around her chest were unfastened.

Her heart beat had accelerated by a hundred beats per minute.

She had breathed very quietly, ignoring the thudding heartbeat and the sudden desire to throw up. She had definitely drank too much for her own good last night. Her head spun and she sat up suddenly, grabbing her clothes and heading straight to the restroom connecting to her room.

Kikome had reeked of alcohol and sweat. The inn was fairly new and westernized, and thus had an electric heater for the bath. She had flipped it on and filled the wooden tub up with water. Within a few minutes, the water was hot.

She had basically jumped into the tub, enveloping herself in the warm and soothing temperature and holding her breath under water. Her mind had raced for the possibility. Saitou, though sometimes crass, was normally a gentlemanly figure, at least towards the common woman. They wouldn't have done it…but she had been unclothed…she cursed herself over and over for drinking so much, for losing complete self-control and going all out to drown herself in inexplicable numbness for sorrow.

Her meeting with Aoshi didn't seem half as bad now. That was a good thing.

The prospect of the much worse was a bad thing. Kikome had prayed with all her might that Saitou's civility had won over his masculine instincts.

The moment she had heard that nothing serious happened, unexplainable relief washed over her like breaths of life. She did not consider what Saitou would think of the situation.

His sudden turn-for-the-worse mood and jogged her back to her senses. The feelings that Saitou had for her were inexplicably clear now. She must have noticed them before, but had instead tried her best to ignore them and convince herself that the relationship between the two was nothing but that of good friends.

Kikome was writing a note to Miyuki, fabricating a reason for her sudden departure when her mind trailed back to Aoshi. Something had been seriously wrong with her the day before…the dream, then seeing Aoshi, had affected her greatly. She now took control of her emotions, fitting herself snugly in the personality of Sokusai once again.

Seeing Aoshi again had increased her resolve to go to Kyoto. Kikome knew Aoshi would not stay behind in Tokyo as one of the greatest fights in the history of Japan was occurring. She intended to go and settle things between the two of them, for better or worse. Kikome refused to live the rest of her life glancing behind her shoulder expecting his emerald eyes.

She glanced at the clock. It had been already been an hour and ten minutes since Saitou left. He was not one to be late…

A sudden realization hit her. Saitou had been against her going to Kyoto from the start, and the rift between the two now could encourage the possibility that he would leave her there.

Kikome left the note and some money as she grabbed her katana and raced out the doors towards the police station. Her head throbbed disgustingly; she wasn't quite over the hangover.

She spotted a carriage depart from the station, in the direction opposite of her hotel. Instinctively, she knew who the dweller was inside. Sokusai was not about to be outrun by horses; her years of training had amassed to her pride of being the master of _Shinsoku_. She appeared at the side of the carriage, which was already beginning to pick up pace. Kikome opened the door and hopped in effortlessly.

Saitou's blade was at her throat the moment she settled in her seat.

"I thought it was near impossible that Okubo could have been assassinated in a swift carriage ride," he said. "Seeing you manage to make your way in without any exertion is a bit unsettling."

Kikome pushed the sword back calmly and said silkily, "Trying to leave me behind?"

"That was my intention. I should have left sooner, but the process back in the office couldn't be neglected."

His words came curtly, bluntly. He was evidently not in the mood for light conversation.

She propped her sword on the bench across from her and looked at him intently.

"Saitou."

He lit a cigarette. "What?"

"Sorry about last night."

"You should be," was his brusque response.

"I'm being quite serious," she said, sighing. "It was idiotic getting drunk yesterday. It was a long day and I met some…unexpected faces."

"_An_ unexpected face."

"I suppose you could say that," she agreed. "But that's not what we're talking about. I apologize for being a burden to you yesterday."

Saitou blew out a cloud of smoke which expanded throughout the whole room. Kikome pushed open a window, letting some ventilation in.

"What happened last night was a burden," he said, nodding. "But that's not the only reason I wanted to leave you in Tokyo."

Kikome looked at him intently, bracing herself for an onslaught.

"I don't want you going to Kyoto for a man," Saitou said simply, avoiding her gaze and looking outside.

"It's not for him," she said acidly.

Saitou turned to look at her, skeptic. "Really now?"

"I am not going to Kyoto for _him_," Kikome said evenly. "I'm going for _me._ I'm not going to live the rest of my life with our situation so unsettled. Whether it's for good or bad, I need to see Aoshi again."

"I still don't like it."

"You told me to find a good reason."

"This isn't a good one."

"It is for me. That man and I need to meet again."

Her dark amber eyes met his liquid gold ones levelly.

She watched as Saitou studied her face closely.

"Kikome, you're a bright woman," he said finally. "You must have realized what I feel—"

"Don't say it," she said sharply, turning away from him. Kikome could not meet his eyes now. The last thing she needed now was a confession from him, another factor to disrupt the resolution that she had made.

Saitou made no reply.

"I know already," she said, keeping her voice steady. "I just can't respond to what you're thinking…not now. I have enough on my hands, on my mind. Right now, my objectives are to protect you and Kenshin from Shishio and to settle my score with Aoshi. That's all."

The silence was suffocating her. Kikome felt an immeasurable of guilt weigh down on her heart. It was not like she couldn't reply his feelings; she simply didn't want to. After going through one emotional trial after another, she couldn't upset the relationship between her and Saitou. Shame mixed with the guilt. She had been causing so much trouble for Saitou, and this was how she repaid him…

"I understand," she heard Saitou say. "I'll wait."

Kikome whirled around. Saitou was smirking, though the smirk did not quite reach his eyes.

"We'll drop the topic for now," he said. "Just don't forget the conversation."

Kikome nodded, slightly relieved.

"Now, to business."

Saitou paused to smoke, then began.

"We're not going to Kyoto quite yet. For now, we will be stopping at Shingetsu village, a village that Shishio has taken over."

He tossed her a map and pointed out the place where the village was supposed to be. There was no indication of a town of any sort.

"As you can see, it has been abandoned by the Meiji government. Don't look like that," he added, smirk widening as he saw Kikome's darkened face. "It's not like they didn't try to help; several squads were completely obliterated."

"So then we're going to help?"

"There have been some rumors that Shishio is currently residing there."

"Jumping into the lion's den," she commented dryly. "This is a bit premature."

"We're just going to investigate," Saitou shrugged. "If it's too big of a risk, we'll retreat."

"But the chance of that is very unlikely, since the Shinsengumi don't seem to know how to retreat."

"Very good."

The carriage drew to a slow halt, stopping outside of a forest. A worn-out trail marked a pathway into the halls of trees, twisting and turning like a maze.

Kikome followed Saitou out as they trotted on the trail. They walked silently into the foreboding brambles, cautious and prepared for any possible ambushes.

The trail soon wore away after an eternity of silent meandering. Kikome caught the presences of three people fifty yards in front of them.

"Fifty yards," she said, concentrating. "Three people. Two are fighters…I think one's a child."

Saitou nodded. "Good."

They broke out into runs, flying through the trees with godlike speed. Kikome caught sight of the three figures. One was a young boy like she had predicted, the other beside him was a teenage girl dressed in lavender ninja gear, and the last was an adult dressed in black, poised with a spear over them. He stabbed towards the two of them; the ninja girl grabbed the boy and rolled out of the way.

Saitou slowed down and walked to the spectacle, then proceeded to serenely ram his katana through the neck of the dark-apparel man. The tip of the blade exited through his mouth.

"Hmph, that bastard," Saitou said coldly. "I thought he was going directly to Kyoto…what's he hanging around here for?"

Kikome saw who he was talking about. Kenshin stood in front of a mass of darkly-clad men, emanating a deadly aura.

"Well, I suppose he wouldn't mind having another pair of hands to help," Kikome smirked, skipping to Kenshin's side.

Even despite the brief notice of her appearance, the two's swordplay interplayed beautifully. They covered each other's openings, each other's possible weaknesses. The crowd of fifty men laid either unconscious or dead before their feet in a manner of seconds without either out of breath.

"Nice eyes, Battousai," Kikome said indifferently, noticing the cold gleam of lilac irises.

"Kikome," Kenshin nodded in acknowledgement without a smile.

"Hey!" Saitou called from across the field as the kunoichi gawked at their feat. "What are you doing, wasting your time here?"

"Saitou," Kenshin said, noticing him there. "What are you doing here?"

"My job," Saitou said, joining the two of them. "One of my men informed me that Shishio was here. Since I had some time before the subjugation forces reached Kyoto, I decided to come here on foot. However, I don't know where that man's present whereabouts are."

"You mean…the boy's brother was a police spy?"

"Boy?"

They glanced over at the young boy beside the ninja.

"I see," Saitou said, understanding. "Mishima Eichirou was originally from Shingetsu. That's why I sent him, so he could infiltrate without arousing any suspicion. He was probably discovered, and tried to protect only his family. Idiot," he added coolly. "He should have waited upon my arrival."

"Hey!" the ninja girl shouted as she came closer and heard what they were saying. "How can you talk about one of your own dead men like that?!"

Saitou raised an eyebrow. "Who's this?" he said, jabbing a finger at her. "A weasel girl?"

Kikome snickered.

The insulted girl looked at Saitou furiously. "I'll kill you! Kill!" She had kansatsu knives in her hand. Not just a pretend kunoichi then.

"There, there," Kenshin said, restraining her. "That's just how he is. If you get mad at him for every little thing that he says, you'll be here forever."

Kikome's eyes watched the Mishima boy as he stopped in front of two poles. A gruesome sight met her dark orbs.

Two figures were hanging from the poles, their bodies covered in blood, lacerated and hanging limply. The Mishima boy stood silently in front of them, looking at the ground and shaking slightly. He must have recognized the corpses…maybe his parents.

"We…should probably bring them down," Kikome said softly. The sight made her sick to her stomach. It was terrible that a young boy had to see his parents' bodies desecrated so badly.

"You're right," the ninja girl agreed.

"Wait!" an elderly man ordered.

The three of them turned to meet a group of the villagers, led by the old man.

"You can't cut them down. If you do, Senkaku will be angry. We are helpless before him. Until we get his permission, you must leave them as they are." His withered hand gestured at the two martyrs.

"What are you saying?" the kunoichi demanded. "They were from your village! You're still going to obey Senkaku after this?"

"If we defy Senkaku, it means death. Obeying him means life. In order to not make things worse for the village, you outsiders and the Mishima boy should leave. Eiji," the elder said, addressing the boy, "you understand?"

"You—" the girl began angrily.

Saitou stopped her with a pat on her head. "Don't be angry. There aren't many people who are brave enough to place their lives on the line to defend their honor and dignity as a human being. Just surviving like an animal, you don't need honor and dignity."

Sounds of dissent emerged from the crowd. "Easy for you to say. What does an outsider know? You police are no help!"

"Anyway," the elder continued, "we cannot permit you to take down the bodies. Leave us now."

Kikome walked over to the pole closer to the corpse of the woman.

"I'll get this one," she told Kenshin who was standing in front of the other pillar.

They simultaneously slashed at the ropes that the bodies hung from, catching them gently as they dropped.

Exclamations erupted from the group. "What are they doing?!"

Kenshin glared at the crowd behind them. They were silenced immediately.

"The fate of this village will be the fate of Japan under Shishio," Saitou said. "They will be controlled with terror and violence. They will only seek to survive, abandoning their credit and pride."

"Saitou," Kenshin said as the villagers began to leave in the midst of insults and indignant cries, "has the Meiji government abandoned this village?"

"Not just this one. More than ten have been abandoned to Shishio. The police trying to recover them are already in retreat."

"I don't really understand what's going on," the kunoichi said, "but if the police can't help, why can't you use the army?"

"Idiot," Saitou said condescendingly. "It's only been half a year since the Southwest War. If the army is mobilized again, it will show our unrest to foreign powers."

"How can you think about that in a time like this?!"

"Even so, we could not get permission to use the army in the first place."

"Why not?" the girl asked.

"Because no one would want to suffer the same fate as Okubo," Kikome answered, remembering the fear and turmoil on the streets of Tokyo at the time. "There is a chance that the government could recover the villages if the army was utilized, but that might encourage a retaliatory assassination. It's hard to prevent an assassination especially to counter one plotted by Shishio's men, and the officials are only human. They fear for their own lives, and thus they wash their hands of the problem, hoping that someone else will take care of it."

She shook her head in disgust as she covered the bodies with a mat. The blood was fresh and seeping into the ground.

"Well then, who's 'somebody'?!" the ninja girl insisted. "Who's going to help this village? Who's going to avenge that boy?

"The village, the army, the police…they're all helpless before Shishio Makoto," Saitou said. "That's why people like us," he gestured to the three of them, "are necessary. We've identified the location of Shishio's inn. Would you come there before going to Kyoto?"

"It's premature," Kikome said, reinstating her worrisome thought. It was directed mostly towards Kenshin. "And we're not ready."

"It's fine," Kenshin assured, knowing who her worry was for. "We'll go."

"I'm going too!" the girl said, determined.

"No, you stay here," Saitou said.

"No way! I'm not letting him get away with this!"

"Misao-dono." So that's what her name was.

"No one's going to tell me what I—"

"Stay here. Stay with Eiji," Kenshin interrupted.

Understanding dawned on Misao's face. She nodded.

The two parties departed from each other, Misao and Eiji towards the forest to bury the bodies, and the others to the inn. It was an odd moment, with two hitokiri and a Shinsengumi captain walking together, united with a common ambition.

Kikome voiced her feelings. "This is interesting."

"What is?" Kenshin inquired.

"How the three of us are walking like we're the best of friends ready to conquer and destroy," she replied wryly. "It's like the years in the Bakamatsu never happened."

Saitou chuckled. "Not quite. We're not that well-acquainted yet."

They arrived at the entrance of the inn. A slim figure awaited them.

"Himura Battousai-san, Saitou Hajime-san, and Nato Sokusai-san?"

It was Okita-kun's smiling face, his winking eyes, his cheerful demeanor.

"It's not him," Saitou said, reading her mind. "He's dead. Don't get carried away."

Disappointment.

Kenshin seemed to recognize his voice.

"Be careful," he said. "This is the one who assassinated Okubo-kyo."

"Oh no," the boy said innocently, "I'm not armed! See?" He waved his hands. "I'm merely here as your guide. Now, shall we proceed? Shishio-san is waiting for you inside."

Kenshin hesitated, wary.

"We won't get anywhere if we're cautious," Saitou sneered. "Let's go."

They followed the boy into the depths of the inn, past the courtyard and into the main hall, passing through thin doors and coming face to face with the man who posed such a great threat to the nation.

Shishio Makoto looked like a living mummy. He was wrapped from head to toe in bandages, a few tufts of hair poking out here and there from underneath the bandages. He was dressed in a set of bluish colored robes, and was smoking a long pipe. A beautiful woman was at his shoulder, serving him wine.

Shishio grinned as he saw the company.

"They're here," he told the woman at his shoulder.

"You're Shishio Makoto?" Kenshin said boldly.

"That'd be Shishio-san, my rude predecessor," Shishio sneered.

"Don't let it bother you," Kenshin snarled. "The rudeness is on both sides."

"Hey, are you just going let him stand there?" Saitou addressed the boy. "He could kill Shishio in a leap, you know."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," he answered cheerfully. "Himura-san would never do something that dishonorable. He's not like you, Saitou-san."

"I see." Saitou smiled coldly.

"Why did you target this village?" Kenshin asked Shishio. "Your goal is the whole country, right? Not one or two small villages."

"For the hot springs," Shishio answered simply. "It's good for my burns, but I was afraid others would see me, so I had to take them."

"You…for that alone, you would terrorize an entire village?" Kenshin said angrily.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Shishio said. "Learn how to take a joke. You're as serious as the rumors say you are."

"Temper, temper," Saitou cautioned, thumping Kenshin on the head. "You take a joke as well as that girl does."

Shishio's eyes examined each individual carefully, sizing them up and analyzing them. He finally arrived at Kikome.

"My, my," he murmured. "And this is the infamous Sokusai. You're as beautiful as they say you are. As Soujirou says, actually."

Kikome stiffened. "So you're not talking about the memory of the little skirmish we had ten years ago."

"What a melodious voice. But no, although I do remember that fight well," Shishio replied. "Nonetheless, you look much more lovelier than before. Soujirou saw you a few days ago and told me about you."

The boy next to Saitou smiled. "Sorry, Nato-san, but I was under orders to gather information about our enemies. We weren't very sure if you were going to participate in this fight or not, since you're not quite like the rest of your companions. Necessary precautions, you know."

"You saw me? When?"

"You were talking to Shinomori Aoshi that day, I believe," Soujirou replied, almost apologetically. Kenshin glanced at her at the sound of Aoshi's name.

Kikome hadn't sensed the boy at all though. Maybe it was because of her emotional state that day. Kikome chanced a fleeting look at Saitou. He was no longer smiling; a hard frown had replaced the smirk. So he hadn't either.

She concentrated, and Kikome realized that she could barely sense Soujirou now either. He had no _ki_, no emotions that she could read. She exerted her own, trying to force the boy to respond. She could feel Saitou do the same, but there was no reaction. Slightly disconcerted, she focused her eyes back on Shishio.

"Taking over these smaller villages will make it easier for me to take over the Toukai way anyway," Shishio was saying. "Although I do like the hot springs."

"Shishio—"

"You keep quiet," Saitou said, this time patting Kenshin on the shoulder. "So with this military base, you intend to exact revenge on the Meiji government for your bandages, young man?"

It sounded odd that Saitou could address Shishio as "young man." Kikome suddenly remembered that Saitou was actually thirty-five, while Shishio was thirty-one. With his face full of bandages, it was really hard to tell.

"Saitou Hajime, captain of the Shinsengumi third unit…you're more like me than Battousai is, so I thought you would understand me better. Looks like I was wrong. I have no intention of seeking revenge on the people who made me this way."

Kikome groaned inwardly. More political talk. Nothing that she was interested in. She looked at Saitou, who was staring intently at Shishio, his hand never leaving the hilt of his blade.

"I'm going to look around," she whispered, slipping through the doors.

Saitou raised an eyebrow at her departure but refrained from commenting.

"Where is Sokusai disappearing off to?" Kikome heard Shishio ask.

"Don't worry, she's not running away. She's just bored," Saitou replied. She could envision the dancing smirk on his lips.

She let out a sigh and walked away from the courtyard. Minutes ticked by as she examined the inn, devoid of people save for the occasional masked man, who scampered away as she exerted her _ki_ in their direction. She met the Misao girl and Eiji as she was wandering.

"Hey!" Misao exclaimed, knocking out the guard who was guiding them. "Aren't you supposed to be with them? Who're you anyway?"

"Nato Kikome," she replied calmly. She gazed at Eiji. "Didn't Kenshin tell you to stay with him in the forest? You shouldn't deprive the dead of mourning, you know."

Eiji looked at her furiously. "What do you know?! I'm alone now! I'm going to do everything I can to get my revenge on Senkaku!"

Kikome shrugged, her nonchalant appearance bringing a wary look in Misao's expression.

"Don't think that you're the most pitiful person in the world," Kikome said. "There are people who are worse off than you. Trying to show exactly how much you're alone and attempting to murder people at so young an age will only bring people's sympathy towards you, something you don't need."

"You don't understand!" Eiji shouted.

Kikome shrugged again. "So what if I don't? I'm strong. That's all that matters."

She turned around and waved towards the inn. "I suppose I'll guide you back then."

The walk was slowly paced, as she had wandered far from the inn. Hopefully they were done talking now.

"Say, how are you and Himura and that slant-eyed cop related anyway?" Misao asked, trying to strike up light conversation.

"We're old acquaintances from the Bakamatsu. Saitou was a captain in the Shinsengumi and I helped them out occasionally. Kenshin and I learned from the same Shishou, so we're childhood friends."

"I see," Misao said with nervous cheerfulness in the face of Kikome's antisocial demeanor. "Well…um…I met Himura on the way here! I'm going to Kyoto too, and I'm following him because he won't tell me the whereabouts of one of the most important people in my life." She let out a sigh. "I wonder why…where is Aoshi-sama?"

Kikome stopped.

"Say that name again."

Misao looked at her, confused. "Aoshi-sama?"

"Okashira of the Oniwabanshuu? Shinomori Aoshi?"

Misao's eyes lit up. "You know him?" She grabbed Kikome's robes. "Where is he? How is he doing? Where's he now? I need to find him."

Kikome brushed her off quickly. She could barely tolerate the amount of freakish coincidences that were happening. Aoshi's presence marked her being; she couldn't even travel to Kyoto without seeing a remnant of his presence.

"Hey! Nato! Tell me where he is! Aoshi-sama, where is he?"

Kikome glared at her. "I'm not talking about that man."

They had thankfully arrived back at the end. Kikome wanted to get away from Misao and her pestering questions as quickly as possible.

Another presence had joined the room. It seemed like Kenshin and the newcomer were fighting.

Kikome rolled the door open to see a massive figure crumple to the ground. He was shockingly tan and had an enormous head that was surprisingly proportional to the rest of his body.

"My goodness," she said softly upon the scene.

"Oh, you're back," Saitou said, patting her head gently and glancing behind . "What are you surprised about?"

"His head," Kikome answered in disbelief. "It's a…triangle. Perfectly…isosceles. Amazing."

Saitou chuckled. "You missed most of it."

"I can't imagine that it was interesting…not if that man is watching and analyzing all our techniques. No need to give him the upper hand in terms of knowledge."

Kenshin was speeding around, while the bulky man followed him with the same speed. Kikome knew what Kenshin was aiming to do.

"It's about time, no?" she remarked.

Kenshin conducted a sharp turn, and his opponent did the same. His knees twisted with a sharp crack, and he fell to the ground, the fall shaking through the floor.

"H-How?" he asked. "We were going at the same speed!"

"Added weight means more effort and force at fast speeds," Kenshin said coldly. "Now…you were the one who killed Eiji's parents?"

So this was the famed Senkaku.

"I-I didn't mean too," Senkaku stammered under Kenshin's penetrating gaze. "I-I…"

"Though I didn't expect you to be able to beat Battousai, to see that you couldn't make him use one useful technique is a let-down," Shishio said apathetically. "I'll have to finish you myself."

Kenshin glared at him.

"Don't do it," Kikome said warningly.

"Ryu Shou Sen!"

Too late. Kenshin's Hiten technique was exposed to Shishio in a moment of unneeded mercy and weakness. Kikome bristled at her fellow associate. So stupid. Didn't he realize that by revealing his skills, he was revealing hers as well?

Kikome heard Misao gasp as she saw the remarkable attack. She had forgotten that the girl stood beside her.

"That kind of mercy is going to get you killed one day," Saitou said lightly.

"It doesn't matter," Kenshin said coolly, directing his sword to an observant Shishio. "I don't need mercy when dealing with the likes of him."

"That move…you turn the blade upward intended to split open his neck right? He would have died if you had used a real blade…" Shishio sighed. "I'm disappointed…there's no way you can beat me. I intend to finish this in Kyoto, the city of flowers."

Shishio slid open a door behind him, revealing a staircase leading downward. "In that time, please revert to being Hitokiri Battousai."

"Running away with your tail between your legs?" Kenshin snarled.

"No…Sou," Shishio said to the boy standing behind Saitou and Kikome, "show Battousai my Tenken in return for his Ryu Shou Sen."

"Sure," Soujirou complied easily. He took his place in front of Kenshin as Shishio and his woman disappeared down the staircase.

"I'll have to make this quick," Soujirou said, "or else I won't be able to catch up with Shishio-san."

"Hey! Himura!" Misao shouted. "The bandaged man is getting away!"

Obviously. They couldn't do anything about it.

Kenshin glared in their direction, his _ki_ blowing at full force.

Misao collapsed to the floor.

"Whoa," she said weakly. "What was that?"

"He's exerting his _ki_," Saitou explained. "That man lacks emotional _ki_ or fighting _ki_, making predicting his actions extremely difficult. I've been doing it for quite some time now."

Kikome noticed that Saitou was talking quite a lot with Misao…she determinedly ignored her passing thought.

Kenshin sheathed his sakabatou, preparing for Battoujutsu. Very appropriate—it would be better to fight at the fastest speed if he couldn't predict.

"Battoujutsu?" Soujirou said. "Well then…me too."

Double Battoujutsu battle. Not something Kikome saw everyday.

In a moment's flash, the two moved simultaneously, working at the same speed. Everything depended on the strength of the move.

Kenshin's sakabatou was cut cleanly in half, the severed tip soaring across the room. A mixture of surprise and shock spread across his young features.

"Well, looks like the match is over," Soujirou said cheerfully.

"Yes," Saitou said resolutely. "It ends in a draw. Neither party is able to continue."

Soujirou looked at his sword in astonishment.

"Why, it's damaged beyond repair…oh well, it was Shishio-san's anyway." Soujirou sheathed the blade. "But in the meantime, please be sure to get a new sword."

With a cheerful wave, he disappeared behind the doors.

The group let out a sigh.

"Kenshin, you're going to be the death of both of us," Kikome groaned. "And now your sakabatou's broken too…goodness, we're in bad shape."

"It's okay," Kenshin said optimistically. "We managed to save the village without any casualties! Besides the ones you killed," he added sourly.

Kikome flashed a grin. "At least I haven't gotten weaker."

The hours passed as Saitou finished shipping an unconscious Senkaku back to Tokyo for interrogation. Eiji would be sent to live with a relative, and Kenshin would continue to go on his way to Kyoto.

"You're not coming, Saitou?" Kenshin asked.

"No, I should wrap up this incident in Tokyo," Saitou answered, smoking again. "You go on and find a new blade."

He clapped a gloved hand on Kenshin's shoulder.

"Today, you saw that you couldn't even beat one of Shishio's subordinates. There's no way you can defeat him as you are. It'd be best if you reverted back to your hitokiri form."

Saitou beckoned to Kikome.

"Shall we return?"

Kikome shook her head. "I'm going ahead with Kenshin."

Saitou's face remained stiffly impassive. "Why?"

"There's nothing for me to do in Tokyo," she said simply. "I can actually help out in Kyoto, since I can visit Shishou and give him a heads-up."

Kikome looked at him fixedly. "And…it might be best if we took a break from each other for a while."

Kenshin looked confusedly between the two, aware of the tense atmosphere.

"Fine," Saitou said finally. "I'll see you in Kyoto then."

He turned around and left without another word. Kikome watched as his wide back disappeared into the forests again, trying not to feel regretful.

"It's okay to go with him, you know," Kenshin said. "I'm fine."

"No," she answered bluntly. "We need to stay away from each other. Besides," she turned to face him, "we need to talk about a few things."

Kenshin's iris eyes darkened. "I know," he said, glancing behind him at Misao, "but…"

"I understand," she said, nodding. "When the girl's not listening."

"So you know already."

"Yes."

There was a mutual understanding, an tacit silence between the two as the three of them departed. Kikome could not help but feel relief from getting away from Saitou. She could focus now, think clearly. She was returning home.


	20. Kyoto

**Chapter 18: Kyoto**

Saitou returned to Tokyo weary and out-of-sorts. The events today had rushed by him quickly, contrasting greatly with the calm, moonlit night before. He had left the interrogation with Senkaku up to other officials and had instead gone to a local restaurant, drinking sake for the first time in a while.

His thoughts kept trailing back to her. He tried not to think about her, her perfect face, her radiant smile, her charming voice and laughter. Try as he might, images of her kept creeping back into his mind as her voice repeated the same words over and over again. "It might be best if we took a break from each other for a while."

He was acting like a rejected man, and in a sense he was. She had not even let him get the words out of his mouth. Sighing, Saitou downed his drink in a gulp. So bland.

A waitress waltzed over to him.

"Some more wine, Fujita-san?" she asked, lifting another bottle.

"Please," Saitou said. She took the sake cup and filled it once more.

"Are you alone, Fujita-san?" she asked innocently.

"Yes," Saitou answered, not looking at her.

"Would you like some company?" she offered.

Saitou took a better look at her. She wasn't bad-looking, nowhere as attractive as Kikome, whose beauty was divine, but not bad at all.

"Certainly."

The waitress slid into the seat beside him, even though the bench across from him was open.

"You should come more often," the waitress said.

She smelled of flowers.

"Hm…you enjoy my presence?" Saitou said, a faint smile dancing on his lips.

"Very much so."

Unlike someone else who needed a break from him.

Saitou slipped his hand around her waist.

"Your name is?"

"Yuri." She smiled at him.

"Well then, Yuri-san, since you seem to enjoy my presence so much, would you like to spend some more time with me? Perhaps outside of work?"

She beamed at him. "I'd love to."

The night wore on and Saitou embraced another woman, one that he did not love but instead sought after as a replacement. In his arms was female, so delicate, thin, submissive. As he satisfied himself, Saitou saw Kikome in a less idealized light. She was flawed; he could easily see that. But perhaps only to him. She only saw him as a companion, not on the same level as Shinomori Aoshi.

Saitou resolved to forget about her. The next time they saw each other in Kyoto, they would be what she wanted them to be: acquaintances. Nothing more, nothing less.

*************

"Kikome, are you sick?" Kenshin asked softly the moment Misao fell asleep.

"What?" she said, bemused.

It was quite late already, and the three of them were camping in a small clearing with a fire burning in front of them. Kikome drew a blanket around her. Good thing she remembered to pack a bag.

"You just look…a little off. A bit too pale. I mean, you are normally, but you almost look…waxy. You also seem like you've lost a bit of weight. Has Saitou not been taking care of you properly?"

"Saitou doesn't need to take care of me," she said shortly. "There just hasn't been a lot of time to eat."

Kenshin noticed her curt response to Saitou and decided to drop the subject.

"Now, I want to know…how do you know Shinomori Aoshi?" he said questioningly.

Kikome leaned against the trunk of a thick tree, trying to get comfortable.

She unraveled her story, of meeting Aoshi, of their relationship, and of seeing him in Tokyo. With every word, her heart eased, as she poured out the stress that had accumulated since Aoshi's departure. Spilling it out made it so much easier on her.

Kenshin listened with rapt attention, analyzing her every movement to infer her mood and whether or not she was telling the truth. He seemed satisfied with the result.

"I see…" he mused. "It's rather awkward, since Misao-dono seems also to be in love with him."

"That's the least of my worries," she said coolly. "I'm going to Kyoto to finish my deal with him. She doesn't matter."

Kenshin sighed. "Women," he muttered.

The two failed to exchange any more words, as weariness claimed them and they fell asleep, each to their own dream and problems.

They arrived in Kyoto the next day, Kikome silent but relieved as Misao chatted animatedly with Kenshin. Kikome liked her less and less; perhaps it was the innate jealousy that she felt because of the relationship that Misao had with Aoshi, but nevertheless, her incessant talking aggravated Kikome's last nerve.

The party came to an inn called the Aoiya, which Misao claimed to be the secret base of the Oniwabanshuu.

"Hey Jiya!!" Misao called excitedly. "I'm back!"

The doors opened to reveal a bearded old man who received Misao warmly.

"Misao! Welcome home!"

Misao jumped into his open arms. "Sorry, I know I'm late but…OW, OW, OW!"

"That's your punishment for being late," he said happily to a fainted Misao. "Now…" He turned to face the remaining two. "You two must have brought her back? She can be quite a handful, can't she?"

"You said it," Kenshin laughed.

Four other ninjas emerged from the inn. "Misao! You're back! Look at you, you've grown!"

It was awkward. There was no other word to describe it. She didn't know how Kenshin felt about it, but for Kikome, someone who never had the familial feeling of being welcomed home in open arms, this type of situation was something she hated seeing.

The two of them turned to leave.

"Wait! We haven't thanked you yet," the old man said.

"Yeah, we're going to have a feast tonight!" Misao said, recovered. "It'll be great!"

"It's just as she said," Misao's grandfather said. "Please stay a while, Himura Battousai-san, Nato Sokusai-san."

The two hitokiri glanced at each other.

"I'm leaving," Kikome said definitively. There was no way she could stay somewhere like this, in a bustling household full of warmth and affection.

Kenshin guessed her reasons. "I'll stay."

She nodded. "Make sure you find a sword and fast. I'll be waiting for you at Shishou's."

The two friends left each other, one extending to meet new associates while the other secluded herself to only the old ones. It was an odd juxtaposition.

Kikome walked up the familiar roads with a jar of sake swinging in her hand and her blade clanging noiselessly at her side. The journey was short and pleasant as she reminisced about her old days of training, winding on the trails of this hill and that.

She arrived at the top, where a terribly well-built man sat on a log in front of a fire, back facing her. Kikome stopped behind him.

"Shishou."

He barely looked behind him.

"Is that my apprentice I hear?" he said gruffly. "At least you can conceal your _ki_ properly. I can hardly notice it."

She had passed. He would never speak with her if she could not do such a simple task.

Kikome skipped to him, her step lighter as she faced one of the few people in the world she indefinitely cared for.

"Shishou!" she said jubilantly.

"Go away," Hiko said grumpily. "There's no need to talk."

"I brought sake," she said, unfazed, waving the sake jar around.

"Good girl," he replied, mood lightening up. "At least you remember these things."

He took the jar appreciatively and immediately uncorked it.

"Mm. Good. Straight-up sake. I was just about to go get some."

Hiko swung the rope handle of the jar over his hand and drank from the bottle directly.

Kikome waited patiently as he drank his fill.

"Now," he said, wiping away the alcohol from his mouth, "it's been a while, hasn't it? Three years?"

"Yeah," Kikome answered. "The last time I came, I was about to move to Tokyo."

"Ah, right," Hiko said, remembering. "Well then, why are you here now?"

"To see you, of course."

"You're as easy to read as you were before. There's trouble, isn't there?"

Kikome smiled and began to explain to her teacher the current situation of Japan, watching his facial muscles never twitch once to what she was saying, no matter how surprising it was. Nothing could daunt Shishou unless it was sake.

"So the idiot's here as well, eh?" Hiko muttered. "That's interesting. Come to learn the remaining techniques of Hiten?"

"Probably so," Kikome answered. "Don't be too hard on him. He's gotten a lot weaker."

Hiko let out an exasperated breath. "This is why you were the better apprentice. At least you stayed to learn it all. Finish what you begin. But he became hasty and left like an idiot. See where it took him now? How long will he take to get here?"

"I don't know," said Kikome. "It might take him a while to get a new sword."

"Well hopefully it'll be a real blade this time, not some wimpy sakabatou…"

Hiko surveyed Kikome. "Are you sick?"

"What?" It was the same thing Kenshin had said.

"You just don't look too good. Like a sickly pale. An alabaster complex isn't bad; you're just going over the line. And you're too skinny. You're never going to get a husband this way."

Kikome made a face. "I suppose it's nice to hear that I look disgusting for once. I'll just become a forty-three year old bachelor alone in the woods like you. Maybe I'll take up pottery as well."

"Hell no. You're getting married if it's the last thing I do," Hiko said under his breath.

She rolled her eyes. "Since when did it ever matter to you that I got married?"

"You're a very attractive woman, Kikome," Hiko growled. "You're my pupil—of course you're attractive. I don't raise ugly people. The idiot can remain unmarried for all I care, but it'd be a serious waste if you didn't get a man and pass your genes down."

Kikome looked at him skeptically. "I don't think it really matters."

"Well I say it does."

"Shishou," said Kikome soothingly, "don't worry, I won't disappoint you. Why don't we worry about saving Japan before my relationship problems?"

Shishou stiffened.

"_You're_ going to fight Shishio?" he said incredulously.

"Why, certainly," Kikome replied. "Why else would I accompany Kenshin so far? On a whim?"

"You're not going," Shishou said sharply.

"What?" she hissed. "Please don't start on that emotional stability crap; I'm quite determined to go."

"It's not that," said her teacher sternly. "This time it's your safety."

"You shouldn't be worried about that," Kikome said reassuringly. "I'm your best pupil, right?"

"The best pupil should stay out of danger to pass on Hiten."

"Seriously?" she scoffed. "You know you don't mean that. We both know that Kenshin will be the successor, and that he will be the stronger one after he learns the last secret."

"You shouldn't go. You're sick."

"I'm _not_ sick. And I can take care of myself well enough, Shishou." Why did everyone think that she was incapable of taking care of herself?

Hiko's eyes hardened. "I let you become Sokusai to show you your limits. In terms of skill, you're phenomenal, a prodigy born to the sword. But you're still a woman. You can hardly go against Battousai's successor and expect to win."

"That's why others are there. We'll back each other up."

"Why are you so obstinate on going?" Hiko snapped. "There's another reason, isn't there?"

"No," she lied. It was a thin lie.

He caught it. They both knew it.

She watched as he studied her face, trying to force the truth out of her. She stared back resolutely.

"It's a man," he said finally.

Why did he have to be so damn insightful?

"There's someone here that you have to protect, isn't there?"

"Quite the contrary," Kikome said icily.

She explained the situation with Aoshi for the second time in the last twenty-four hours. This time, Shishou did not remain so impassive. She had edited out all the hours of crying she had had, but he inferred them from her tale regardless. His still youthful features curled up in a feral snarl and he looked more ferocious than she had ever remembered.

"I'm going to kill that bastard," he said, eyes flashing dangerously.

"You don't know where he is," she said dryly. "I don't either."

"I'll kill him when I see him then."

"I might be the one to do that, actually."

"Good girl."

The conversation turned to lighter conversation, much to Kikome's relief. Shishou had always been protective of her, more guarded of her than of Kenshin. He blatantly favored her, for not leaving and for being a sensible female who learned quietly and advanced quickly. His attitude towards Aoshi was predictable, and a skirmish, unlikely as it was, was undesirable. Kikome knew that if Aoshi were to die in the end, she wanted to be the one to do it.

The easy conversation distracted Kikome from the burdens of the last few months, both from Aoshi and from Saitou.

"I can't stand your pasty face anymore," Hiko groaned. "Come on, we're training."

"You'd _think_ that if I were sick, you'd offer me food," Kikome growled.

"Sparring is the food for the soul."

They stood up, stretching.

"I suppose food tastes better after a good workout anyway," she said, complying. "It's been a while since I've had a good fight."

Hiko unsheathed his blade with a grin. "Let's see how good you are."

They flew at each other, their swords beating against each other, the sounds resonating all the way to the city. The clinking bells of heaven's techniques rang clearly over Kyoto.


	21. Encounter

**Chapter 19: Encounter**

A week had passed since Kikome had seen Shishou again. She stayed in the home of her childhood innocence and the few peaceful memories that she had. It made her feel surprisingly secure, and the constant training rejuvenated her spirit. A lively spark returned to her ebony eyes as she toned her body to its physical apex. Shishou seemed glad of her condition; she looked less pale and her endless sweating routine revitalized the spirit of Sokusai that had remained latent after years without fighting. Only her Shinsoku had not deteriorated. She remained faster than Shishou, though only slightly; not once did she ever beat him. Shishou remained the ultimate teacher, the prodigy, the perfect disciple of Hiten Mitsuruugi.

It was late afternoon and the two were sitting outside making pottery. A thin billow of smoke rose over the city and disappeared.

"Hey, Kikome, did you see that?"

"The signal fire?"

"Yeah. That's not really common around here nowadays…"

"It might be for Kenshin. The people he's staying with are ninjas; they probably use that kind of old-fashioned sign for communication."

Hiko nodded. "Guess he'll be coming soon then."

Kikome poked the logs in the furnace that was baking some of Hiko's pottery. He was actually quite good at it…but then again, despite all his arrogance and pomp, Hiko Seijuurou was quite the genius.

The day wore on and night crawled in like a snake, encompassing the sun and enveloping the sky with speckled dots of stars.

Kikome rested inside of the house, nestled between jars and pots that Hiko had made in his spare time to live up to his alias. She heard nothing, felt nothing, and dulled her senses. No need to worry about enemies when her Shishou was right outside.

But she never fell asleep. She never slept as soundly, as peacefully, since…she racked her brains. Her slumber was always ridden with Aoshi's presence, with nightmares that woke her and left her feeling exhausted. The only night where she had slept dreamlessly…was the first night she and Saitou slept together. Except that didn't count.

Kikome dozed off, slipping between an awakened stage and a sleeping stage. She could sense Kenshin and her master in the room, talking…Hiko was scolding Kenshin, showing how his incompetence fifteen years ago was the reason Shishio had risen as the ghost of the Bakamatsu.

"Perhaps it was a mistake to teach you Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu," Shishou was saying.

Kikome snapped her eyes open and sat up straight. Kenshin and Master looked at her.

"Three people are outside," she said quietly, annoyed that she had to wake up to inform them.

Sure enough, the door burst open.

"What did you say?!" Misao and Yahiko charged into the room.

Kikome's aggravation increased tenfold.

"Who's this?" Shishou inquired.

"Misao-dono," Kenshin said wondrously. "Yahiko…" He spotted the last figure.

"Kaoru-dono…"

"These friends of yours?" Shishou asked Kenshin.

"Yes."

"It's like Grand Central Station today. People should know when they're not wanted."

Misao and Yahiko pulled their faces in mockery.

"Kenshin, run outside and get some water."

"What?"

"You don't expect these kids to last all night without anything to drink, do you? Go."

"You were always such a slave driver."

Kenshin brushed passed his friends, barely looking at Kaoru. Men.

"Now…" Hiko looked at the three newcomers.

"Lemme ask you something," Misao said impertinently. "How old are you?"

"Forty-three."

"_WHAT?!_ How can this guy and Kenshin be so good?!" Yahiko exclaimed.

"Wait, you mean Himura just looks young?" Misao said eagerly.

"Yeah, he's twenty-eight!"

Misao whipped around and pointed a finger at Kikome. "Then how old are you?"

"Twenty-five."

"I've got it!" Misao said, punching her fist in the air. "Hiten Mitsurugi must be the secret to eternal youth! I'm going to learn it when I grow up!"

Kikome groaned and beginning to stand up.

"I'm leaving," she said, brushing aside her hair. Even in a high ponytail, it reached well past her shoulder. "I've slept enough."

"Yeah, right," Hiko said sardonically. "I thought you looked bad because you weren't eating. You can't sleep properly either."

"I wonder who's fault that is," she said acidly, thinking of Aoshi.

"Come back in a few days; there's something I need to tell you."

Kikome scrutinized Hiko's face, curious. His features revealed nothing.

The three newcomers parted way for the tall, willowy figure. Kikome disappeared into the night without another word, the darkness pervading her surroundings and blending her in from sight.

*************

Kaoru sat uncomfortably in front of Kenshin's Shishou. Nato Kikome's presence had not made it any easier for her to be there. Had she been with Kenshin this whole time? Exactly what kind of intimacy did they share? Clearly Hiko Seijuuro didn't mind; the master and pupil seemed rather close, actually. More so to her than to Kenshin at any rate.

She still looked beautiful, even more so than when she was back in Tokyo. She had an almost radiant glow that only came with a woman with supreme confidence. The only defect was her haggardness. Nato-san seemed tired, exhausted, as if all her time spent sleeping was spent thinking about some obsessive thought.

Kaoru answered the questions that Hiko presented to her confidently, telling him of Kenshin's repentance for being a hitokiri. As she spoke, her mind trailed back to Sokusai. Was she like Kenshin? She seemed ice-cold, unremorseful, merciless. She had spoken of chopping off the limbs of a man with a cruel smile on her face.

There was a silence as Kaoru finished speaking.

"Hm…" Hiko mused. "Well that puts things in a different perspective. That boy can be a man when it comes down to it all…"

"Um, Hiko-san," Kaoru said hesitatingly.

"What?"

"Is it all right…if I ask you about Nato-san?"

Misao looked up, now interested. Hiko's eyes narrowed.

"Depends on what you want to ask."

"Like…well, what's she like, for one?"

"She's a very attractive woman, headstrong, and extremely talented. It's like she was born to be the disciple of Hiten Mitsurugi, but somehow the heavens messed up and she ended up as a woman."

"Are she and Kenshin close?"

"They're what you could call 'best friends." Hiko poured some sake into a small cup and drank. "I originally took Kenshin in, intending for them to be lovers when they grew older."

A deadweight dropped in Kaoru's stomach. They were meant to be together.

"It didn't click for them, though," Hiko continued. "Kikome never had the notion of fulfilling the role of the woman. She refused to dependent on anyone except herself, and I guess Kenshin's girly demeanor and appearance didn't help attract her."

"Is she better than Himura?" Misao demanded.

"Haven't we already established that she is?" Hiko growled. "But after Kenshin learns the final secret, it's possible that he'll surpass her. He'll be the only one that can defeat Shishio Makoto. But that's just due to Kikome's physical limitations and her lack of will."

"How long have you known her?" Kaoru asked.

"Forever," Hiko said ambiguously. "Since she was two, actually. I took in Kenshin four years later."

"How did you find them?" Misao questioned.

Kaoru shot a glare at her. It was the wrong question to ask, especially if both of them were orphans.

Hiko thought so as well. "That's not for you to know." His voice was one of authority, ending the conversation.

Kaoru stayed silent and pondered, not sure if her worry had alleviated or intensified. Nevertheless, she could no longer pursue the topic. Kenshin entered the room, and the newcomers were dismissed. Kaoru returned to Kyoto, agreeing to spend the night at the Aoiya, and resolved to simply wait. The concern over Nato Kikome could wait.

*************

Kikome spent the night at a nameless inn and slept badly, as always. Her head throbbed and her body ached. Her legs were the worst. She brushed it off as a result of the great deal of Shinsoku she used the day before because of the training. Kikome tossed on some clothes and hooked her gloves around her wrists, flexing her digits, and departed from the room, sword in her hand.

Kyoto was busy, busier than Tokyo. Various people crowded in the streets, clamoring around the vendors and the shops. Kikome's headache grew worse. She sought quiet, a solace that seemed impossible to find in these hectic streets. She slipped into a less-crowded alley and came face to face with Soujirou. With him were a gigantic monk, a short, bat-like figure, a stupid-looking fatso, and…

Kikome's eyes darkened upon seeing the last silhouette. Dammit, he was still gorgeous.

"Well, if it isn't Nato-san!" Soujirou said as if the encounter had made his day. "How delightful to see you!"

Soujirou fell silent and followed her steady gaze.

"Ah, right, you must already know Aoshi-san," he said. "Well, then…"

His innocent voice trailed off.

"What are you doing here?" she asked Aoshi.

"You're disturbed to see me, aren't you?" Aoshi said. She could hear his mocking tone, no matter how emotionless his face remained.

She raised an eyebrow. "Why would you think that?"

"Sokusai, I know you well enough. Your eyes are always the place to look to read your mood."

"Good to know that you paid some sort of attention to me," Kikome said frigidly. "I'd have thought you had all but forgotten me by now."

Aoshi approached her. His gloved hand caressed her cheek lightly.

"You know that's very hard."

"Of course it is," she said, her hand coming up to clutch his wrist. She dug her nails into the bare flesh, savoring his slight wince, embracing the incarnadine liquid trickling to her hand.

"Well, well, that's quite the different reaction than the one in Tokyo," he said, lifting his wrist to his lips and licking his wound. His dark eyes flashed. She tried not to marvel on how absolutely beautiful he was.

Kikome diverted her attention to Soujirou, who looked at the two of them with pure curiosity.

"I guess I'll get out of your way," she said coolly. "My regards to Shishio."

"Actually, why don't you help me out?" Aoshi said, voice like velveteen. "Tell me where Battousai is."

"You must be joking."

"It'd save me time. I wouldn't have to wander off to the hands of Battousai's enemy, and it would hasten the inevitable."

"I, unlike you, have some sense of morality."

She proceeded to walk past him, and the others parted the way.

Aoshi's hand gripped her right shoulder tightly. She could hear the clinking sound of an unsheathed blade.

"Sokusai, you should tell me where Battousai is, or I'll run you through."

She could feel the point of his kodachi pierce the skin over her shoulder blade.

"You'd kill me?"

"I'm sure some torture wouldn't hurt." He could say something like that with the silkiest voice in the world. "Piercing you through your sword arm would render you useless, as you should be."

Kikome unsheathed her sword in a fluid moment and curled it around Aoshi's outstretched arm. She pulled it past his arm quickly, relishing the friction of her sword connecting with his skin, cutting his skin deeply. The blood splattered against the wall.

"Please don't take me lightly," she said, voice pleasant and conversational. "You're getting ahead of yourself."

She sensed Aoshi move towards her, preparing himself, arms crossed. Kaiten Kenbu.

She twisted her body slightly to the right, feeling him pass her, and return for a consecutive blow.

A sword grazed past her cheek. She whirled around. Soujirou. Damn it. And Aoshi was still rushing towards her. Kikome flipped into the air, only to find Soujirou there as well. She parried his blow, the force pushing her back and causing her to land on the ground. Aoshi was there.

With the god-speed that she had perfected, she disappeared behind him. Aoshi was not the problem. It was this boy, Soujirou. His ever-smiling face paused in front of her. She could sense nothing. No emotions, no fighting _ki_. Kikome caught Aoshi's blades behind her with her sheath, trying her best to keep Soujirou in her sight.

"You're amazing, Nato-san," Soujirou's voice said.

Kikome cursed and moved forward, Soujirou's katana barely missing her. It was too distracting to fight two elite swordsmen at the same time, especially when she could barely read one of them. Aoshi's hand caught her throat and slammed her against the ground, his kodachi at her throat.

Before he could say a word, Kikome rammed he hilt of her blade as hard as she could at his throat, missing slightly and catching his chin. It was effective either way. He got off of her and stepped back, coughing slightly.

The tip of a sword caught her left arm, slicing through her loose sleeve. She shifted to the right automatically, catching the still-moving blade with her left hand firmly and reciprocating by slamming her blade in the direction of the effervescent figure. Kikome felt the connection with some satisfaction, letting go of the blade and catching Soujirou by the collar.

"Wow!" he said, blood pouring like a rivulet from a shallow cut across his neck. "You're very scary. I thought I could beat you if you were distracted and save us some trouble but…"

Kikome felt Aoshi move behind her.

He wouldn't hurt her. She wouldn't move. The boy in her hands was more important.

True enough, his kodachi crossed at her neck, centimeters away from her skin.

His voice whispered in her ear, but she didn't hear. Kikome's eyes focused on Soujirou.

"Something's wrong with you," she told the boy.

He laughed. "I get that a lot. Are you referring to my _ki_? Shishio-san said that I'm a natural at fighting you and Himura-san."

Only when she could feel the metal pressing against her neck did she remember that Aoshi was behind her. Still, she did not release Soujirou.

"Let him go," Aoshi said harshly. "You're talking with me."

"I'm afraid not," she said. "Right now, this kid is who I'm speaking with."

Beads of red grew like jewels against her pale neck.

"Don't underestimate me, Sokusai."

Soujirou leaned forward and pushed the kodachi apart.

"Hey, hey, Aoshi-san, let's not get too violent with Nato-san, all right? It's a shame to see such a lovely lady injured." He smiled sweetly at her. His whole persona screamed of Okita. "I suppose you wouldn't tell us anything anyway."

Kikome stepped out of Aoshi's reach, glad to get away from him. Her black eyes never left Soujirou, her gloved hands never left the hilt of her sword. Soujirou saw her caution and smiled.

"Please don't look like that, Nato-san," he said ingenuously. "I won't fight you anymore. It's a bit of a problem though. You seem like more danger to us than Himura-san…are you sure you won't refrain from fighting? There really is no reason for you to oppose us."

Kikome's eyes trailed to Aoshi. Her lips curled into a moue of disgust.

"On the other hand, maybe you do," Soujirou said awkwardly.

"Don't go to Shishio," she said sharply to Aoshi. "It'll just give me another reason to kill you."

Aoshi smirked. "It sounds like you don't want to."

"Stop kidding around. I'd like nothing better than to watch you suffer." Her voice was lathered with the thickest layers of hatred imaginable. "But this kid," she jerked a hand at Soujirou, "worries me."

Soujirou gave a tinkling laugh. "I won't interfere, I promise."

Kikome ignored him. Giving Aoshi one last glare, she disappeared quickly down the alley, wanting nothing more than to get away from those eyes. She hated their coldness, their dead nature. But she didn't know if she wanted to see the old verdant vibrancy either.

She placed a hand over the wound of her neck, stopping the blood and licking it off her hand. She caught sight of herself in a glass window and halted. Soujirou stood behind her.

Kikome froze. Hadn't she been using Shinsoku? How could he follow her so precisely? Even Kenshin sometimes had trouble keeping up with her.

"Are you surprised?" Soujirou asked.

"Very."

"Don't worry, I'm not here to attack you. I just wanted to warn you that you shouldn't get too cocky about your speed."

He disappeared, his voice trailing behind in the wind.

"I'm just a little bit faster."


	22. Closer

**Chapter 20: Closer**

Kikome sat furiously down in front of Shishou and Kenshin.

"What is it?" Hiko asked.

"That boy's faster," she said irately.

"What?"

She felt like a child, jealous of another kid's better toy. "The Soujirou boy that's Shishio's right-hand man. He's faster than I am."

Kikome looked levelly at the two men.

"Speed's my only advantage against men. To know that a male is swifter than I really kills my ego. There's got to be a faster technique than Shinsoku."

"Yeah, there is," Hiko said. "But you can't learn it."

Kikome ignored him. "There's got to be one…I think I read about it somewhere."

She turned to Kenshin. "Help me out here."

"I really don't think it's that big of a deal," Kenshin said nervously. "It's probably just by a little bit…"

"Shukuchi," she said, bolting upright. "It's Shukuchi."

Hiko groaned.

"It's when you go instantaneously from initial speed to full potential speed in one moment," she explained to herself, "decreasing the range between you and your opponent in a moment. It looks like shrinking ground to a third eye. Hence, Shukuchi. Speed that the eye can't possibly follow."

"Yes, that's it," Hiko said. "But you can't possibly go any faster than you are."

She glared at him. "Why?"

"Kikome, for the last time, you're a woman. Your body has already been stretched to the limit to accommodate your perfected Shinsoku."

Kikome frowned. "I believe in myself."

"No." Kenshin's voice was sharp.

"Why _not_?"

"Shishou already explained it to you. Put your health in front of your reputation. What if, in an attempt to learn Shukuchi, you damage your muscles beyond repair? It's not worth it."

She gazed into Kenshin's aubergine eyes.

"Fine," she said resignedly. "I won't try."

Hiko let out a breath of relief.

"I'll just get a little bit faster."

She stood up animatedly. "It's like a mission. Now I have something to accomplish instead of aimlessly meandering around."

Kikome disregarded Shishou's upset expression. How come he didn't understand her need to become stronger? It didn't make any sense.

"How is the training coming along, Kenshin?"

"He's gotten so weak," Shishou answered. "But we'll make it through. Why don't you help us out a little?"

Kikome cocked her head to one side.

"Shishou, you should know that I've never been able to pull of the final secret successfully. It's just not my technique." She smiled indifferently.

"Yeah, I figured. But Kenshin hasn't learned the other one either."

"Oh, right."

Kenshin's head swiveled between the two. "What are you talking about?"

Hiko stood up and beckoned Kenshin to do the same.

"A little lesson from your fellow apprentice."

They stood out in the field.

"Okay, there's nine types of attacks that aim for each of the nine vitals of the human body," Kikome said, unsheathing her sword. "In Hiten Mitsurugi, as well as other sword techniques, there is always one attack that focuses on attacking all nine at the same time. Of course, there is always some type of natural defense, and thus, usually, there is some resistance to the attack."

She swayed her sword fluidly. "Don't move an inch, Kenshin."

Kikome charged, the colors around her blurring, sweeping past Kenshin in one movement.

"With Hiten's Shinsoku and this attack, any defense is penetrable. Rather, there is no time to defend."

She sheathed the sword and turned around. Kenshin remained motionless.

"This is Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu's Kuzu Ryuu Sen."

"I…couldn't move an inch."

She smirked. "Of course not. According to Shishou, this is my and his best technique."

"Which is really odd, since Kuzu Ryuu Sen depends so much on weight. But Kikome's increased speed adds an immeasurable amount of force, thus making it quite successful," Hiko said.

"All right, you're dismissed." Hiko waved his hand away to Kikome.

A sudden worrisome thought dawned on Kikome. If Hiko was going to teach Kenshin Amakakeru Ryuu no Hirameki, it was very possible that he would die once Kenshin learned it properly.

"Shishou, I just remembered…the final secret…you might—"

"I know," Hiko said. "But don't worry. I don't plan on dying."

Kenshin shot a quizzical look at Kikome. She bit her lip. It was a miracle that he had survived her final attack, and that was partly because she lacked so much in physical strength. But if it was Kenshin…the chances were low.

"Go away, Kikome," Hiko growled. "You'll disturb his concentration. If you're that worried, just come back the day after tomorrow. I still have to tell you a few things."

It was like him reassuring her that he wouldn't die.

"You'll be here in two days then."

"Sure."

"That's not a yes."

"…Yes."

She turned around and left her fellow pupil and her beloved master to their training, praying with all her might that neither would die in the midst of the tension.

Kikome sat in a tea shop the next day, finishing her lunch and drinking her tea. She swirled the cup around, studying the ripples of the liquid, thinking about Kenshin and his training, thinking about a way to make herself swifter than she already was.

A figure slipped on the bench across from her. Kikome's hand immediately reacted, her chopsticks firmly poking into the figure's neck.

"Hello, Soujirou-san."

"I'm not armed today, Nato-san, so could you please stop your belligerency? Blood stains wood, you know."

She removed her hand.

"Then what are you here for?"

"Just for some sweets. I happened to see you as I was purchasing them."

"Hm." Kikome studied his innocent face, perturbed by the fact that she could sense no killing intent. But there was no way he would attack her in the middle of public, and he really didn't have a sword with him.

"Something to eat?" she asked. "My treat."

"Wow, that's really nice of you," he said enthusiastically. "I'd love to!"

He even talked like Okita. She refused to let down her guard, though her resolution weakened a little as she watched him eat.

"So how old are you, Soujirou-san?"

"Sixteen."

She chose to stop the conversation, letting Soujirou eat his fill of sashimi. He _would_ order the most expensive kind.

"So, Nato-san, how's your neck? I hope Aoshi-san didn't injure you."

Kikome touched the light scar at her neck.

"It seems to be all right. Shallow enough to not bother with bandages." She twirled her chopsticks lazily. "How about yours?"

It was strange that he was even an enemy. She felt no need to attack, no urge to be on guard. She cautioned herself. He could easily kill her if she continued her nonchalant attitude.

"It's not that bad either," Soujirou said. "I think the cut you gave Aoshi-san on his arm was the biggest injury."

"So, he's joined forces with you, hasn't he?" she commented lightly. The thin chopstick snapped under the pressure of her seemingly delicate fingers.

"Er, Shishio-san says we're just…collaborating?"

"Good riddance."

"Now seriously, Nato-san, I don't understand the reason why you must go against the Juppongatana. I mean, Shishio-san and you don't really have anything to do with each other, and you don't care about the welfare of Japan, so why not just help us out instead? It'll be fun."

"It's not like I don't care about Japan," she said coolly. "It's more like I don't care about its government. And I must say that I'll have to decline your offer. Battousai and Saitou are people that I hold affection for, to some extent. And please don't misunderstand; compared to them, Aoshi is the least of my problems."

Soujirou sighed. "Such a waste! If we could work together, we'd be unstoppable. The fastest ones around, eh?"

Kikome's eyes narrowed. "You're the fastest _one_ around. I think you have a good idea of how much that irks me."

He laughed. "Of course. But please don't take it seriously; it's not much."

He finished his food. "Mm, that was good. Are you sure it's your treat?"

"I wouldn't begrudge you of a few sashimi." Though they were pricey for a lunch.

"I should be on my way. Are you sure you wouldn't like to come with me?"

"She's quite sure," a voice from behind said.

Kikome jumped in her seat. She'd let down her guard in the city, not seeking out anyone's _ki._ She turned around to see Saitou, his hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, Saitou-san. It's good to see you in Kyoto," Soujirou greeted him amiably.

"Good, indeed," Saitou replied silkily. "Now, Sokusai, what would you be doing, fraternizing with the enemy in broad daylight?"

"We bumped into each other."

"Normally, when enemies meet, they don't treat each other out to lunch."

Soujirou chuckled nervously. "I was just hungry and invited myself over. Don't be angry with Nato-san. It was kind of her to not attack me in public."

"You might want to disappear," Saitou said icily, "before I do."

"Haha, of course. Well then, thank you for the food, Nato-san. Bye!"

Soujirou vanished from their sights instantaneously.

"In a bad mood the moment you see me, hm?" Kikome said dryly as Saitou sat opposite of her.

"You need to stop being so careless," Saitou said gruffly.

"I wasn't. The boy wasn't armed."

"Sokusai, for the last time, he's not Okita."

"I know," she said. "You don't need to emphasize that."

"Obviously not. You simply see him as a, say, shallow reincarnation of Okita Soushi. Restrain yourself and your womanly reminiscence, would you? It would trouble the rest of us who are actually trying to accomplish something."

"Condescending and brutal today, aren't you?" she hissed. "Please don't say that you took it to heart when I told you that we needed a break from each other. Besides, it's quite obvious that we needed it. It probably wasn't even long enough."

Saitou looked at her with his piercing gold eyes. She stared resolutely back. It was incredible how annoying he could be. So dominating, like everything had to go his way. She did not regret asking that the two of them separate for a period of time. Kikome wanted nothing more than to leave his sight now.

"You're probably right," Saitou said, bristling slightly. "Considering how we're arguing already, and it hasn't even been five minutes since we encountered each other. But of course, it's quite possible, with your shockingly quarrelsome personality that is capable of starting a strident argument with even the most patient man."

Kikome smirked mercilessly. "So in order to rid ourselves of the pest in front of us, why don't you hurry up and tell me what you want? If not, then I'll just disappear. I have work to do."

"Well that's a first."

"Enough of your snide comments, Saitou."

"I need a progress report from you on Battousai's status."

"He found a new blade, and it's another sakabatou. He's currently training with our Shishou, and will be back once he's finished."

She stood up abruptly. "Anything else?"

"Nothing from you. Why don't you disappear, like you wanted, say, to Tokyo?"

Kikome smiled beatifically.

"Oh, believe me, Saitou-san, nothing would be more pleasant than leaving you here as well."

She threw the money for her and Soujirou's lunches on the table and ambled out of the shop, ignoring the intense gaze of Saitou's golden orbs behind her.

Kikome found an isolated area outside of the city, amidst a clump of trees. She stood still in the center of them and concentrated releasing her _ki_ in one force. It was exhilarating as she was able to emit her concealed _ki_ without caring about anything except for her training.

She blocked Saitou and their encounter out of her mind. All she cared for was her pursuit of becoming faster, stronger, better.

Her dark eyes gleamed as she lost herself in her exercise. It was a relief from the pressuring reality.

*************

Saitou was growing impatient. Shishio was fortifying his forces and was remaining as obscure as ever. According to Chou, who was in prison, Shishio had already gathered the Juppongatana and was on his way to make a declaration against the country. Battousai was nowhere to be found, though Sokusai had affirmed that he was "training."

And then there was the issue of Sokusai herself, though the issue only remained between the two of them.

She had looked even better than how she was when they left. Compared to now, the Sokusai that he had departed from looked unhealthy and almost weak.

She now seemed stronger, tanner, more robust. There was a confidence that she had gained in herself during her stay. The way she carried herself was prideful, regal, like an empress.

Upon closer inspection, Saitou had noticed slight shadows under her eyes. Her eyes were firm but tired, and though she walked as if she glided, there was a heaviness in her step that echoed her haggardness.

And she had become careless. Sitting with their enemy in broad daylight, letting down her guard. When Saitou had caught sight of her in the crowd, he had thought she had absurdly decided to switch sides. It strangely seemed plausible, especially with the Soujirou boy's presence. Upon hearing her resolution to stay on the "good" side, Saitou had felt extremely relieved, only to be disturbed by their quickly-developed quarrel.

He lit a cigarette and sat in his office, barely looking at the documents in front of him. Time ticked by as the inevitable came closer.


	23. Past

**Chapter 21: Past**

Saitou sat in his office, waiting. Any moment now, Battousai would be coming. He had been training for long enough.

"Fujita, the patrols have been sent around Kyoto like you ordered," the chief of the Kyoto branch told him. "We have about 5,000 police patrolling around. Even if it is Shishio's men, they won't be able to move freely."

"Hm…" Saitou smoked his cigarette calmly. "I wonder how this will go."

"Don't worry, it'll be fine," the chief replied confidently. "Heaven is on our side. The legendary man we were searching for will arrive here soon."

There was the sound of a carriage stopping right outside the building. Hitokiri Battousai stepped lightly down, his purple irises resolute. Still no sign of the hitokiri back during the Bakamatsu days.

Saitou slid the window open to address him.

"Well, look at you," he sneered, "visiting in a carriage on a weekday afternoon like you were some rich guy."

Battousai laughed as the noisy man at Saitou's side voiced his agitation at Saitou's rudeness.

"So what is it?" Saitou asked. "Have you resolved to becoming the hitokiri again?"

Battousai simply smiled. "I'm not sure."

Saitou viewed him uncertainly, and said, "Come inside. We have a lot to talk about."

The chief left the room as Himura entered.

"Sokusai not with you?" Saitou questioned in a presumably indifferent tone.

Battousai shook his head. "She was supposed to come with me, but Shishou held her back. There was something that they needed to talk about."

Battousai plopped down on a chair and sighed deeply.

"Shishio is unwilling to let her come and fight Shishio with us," he explained. "He has always been protective of her, since, all things aside, she's still female. But he's also worried about her motive."

"You mean Shinomori Aoshi?" Saitou said icily.

Himura looked up swiftly. "So you know as well?"

"I surmised as much."

The former hitokiri sighed again. "Shinomori Aoshi…he's a rather difficult issue to deal with."

Just kill him and be done with It, Saitou thought. But he wasn't about to voice it aloud. Jealousy aside, Shinomori could play a few important roles for him, if Saitou could manipulate the situation properly.

"Kikome's feisty nature will definitely drive her to kill Aoshi once she sees him," Himura continued. "I'd like that to be avoided…Shishou's motive is completely different. He'd kill Aoshi if he could, but keeping Kikome behind would be probably to ensure her safety. She generally has no will when fighting; in an issue with someone who might have betrayed her at some point, if she kills him, it's very likely that her will to live will decrease during her fights afterward."

"Then leave her behind," Saitou said. A good idea, one that he had supported since the beginning.

Himura seemed to agree, but said so otherwise.

"I don't want restrain her. I have faith that she'll be fine."

"You have faith placed in the wrong person," Saitou scoffed.

Kenshin looked at him doubtfully, but did not pursue the subject. The two men turned to discuss the future of the country.

The carriage rumbled down the streets at full speed. The Sagara boy was sitting on the roof for some peculiar reason, but it didn't bother Saitou. Less trash around made the air easier to breathe in.

The discussion of Shishio's ulterior motive had ended hours ago. There was nothing they could do except to wait until the carriage arrived at Osaka bay, and that would be only a little before midnight. They were hard pressed for time.

There was a sudden movement by the door as it slid open in one fluid motion. A slim figure slipped in the carriage, closing the door behind her.

Both Battousai and Saitou had their swords out at her throat before the door fully shut.

"Take it easy, would you?" Kikome said in a slight drawl. "It's just me. Let me sit down, at least; I'm worn out from running."

Sagara's head poked through the window. His eyes widened in amazement.

"Kikome?!" he yelled over the whistling wind. "When the hell did you get there?"

"You're a terrible guard," she said, sitting by Kenshin. "It took you that long to figure out I was here even after I opened the door?"

"The carriage was going at full speed," Kenshin said. "When did you set out?"

"An hour ago," she answered, fixing her sandal laces. "It took me a while to get from Shishou's to the police station, and then they said that you guys left, so I had to set out at top speed about half an hour ago. Good thing I chose the right route."

The two men exchanged looks. They had already been on the road for two hours; it was impossible that someone could possibly catch up to them in so short of a time.

Kikome leaned back against the seat, wiping beads of perspiration away from her forehead.

"Ugh, I'm disgusting," she said, making a face.

"There's no way you could have caught up to us, even if you were using Shinsoku the whole way," Battousai finally said.

Kikome returned his comment with a devilish smile.

"I wasn't using Shinsoku."

Battousai's eyes widened. "So then…you mastered Shukuchi?"

"I wouldn't say _mastered_," she said modestly. "I just accomplished my task."

Her smile broadened, displaying how pleased she was with herself.

"Shishou warned you, Kikome—"

Her elegant face fell automatically. "Shishou doesn't know what he's talking about. He should understand, being the teacher and all."

Kenshin began to protest, but decided against it.

"So what took you so long to get here?" Saitou asked, speaking up for the first time since she arrived.

Kikome glanced at him briefly, then averted her eyes to outside the window.

"Shishou tried to hold me back," she said, "by telling me my past."

Battousai looked confused. "I thought he didn't know anything about it. Didn't he just find you on his doorstep one day?"

She scoffed. "That's what he'd like to believe." Her eyes clouded over as she gazed at the passing landscape but didn't see it.

She did not elaborate on the subject. Neither Battousai nor Saitou attempted to pursue it either.

As they explained the situation to her, Saitou saw her hand slip around her katana, embracing in a slight curl. Sokusai kept nodding, as if she was listening, the reddish glow of the sunset illuminating the carriage, casting a shadow on her features. She did not hear what they said. Saitou looked at her silently as her ebony eyes trailed back in reminiscence.

*************

Kikome arrived at Shishou's place just as Kenshin was about to leave.

"Hey," she said, relieved to see him unharmed. "Is Shishou still there?"

"You're not asking if he's dead?" Kenshin said sarcastically, though the relief showed plainly on his face.

"I had a hunch that he was okay."

She ducked into the house.

"Hey, Shishou."

Hiko groaned as her turned to look at her. His chest was heavily bandaged and he moved gingerly; the wound must have been deep.

"Kikome, good timing."

"You've got to be the strongest Hiko Seijuuro in Hiten history, having survived two full-fledged apprentices."

He chuckled. "Ha, I bet I am."

He caught sight of Kenshin at the doorway. "What are you still doing here? Hurry up and stop Shishio already."

Kenshin looked confused. "But Kikome's coming with me."

"She'll catch up later." Hiko's tone settled the discussion.

The two apprentices exchanged bemused looks; Kenshin disappeared down the slope.

"You said you had something important to say to me, Shishou?"

"Yeah, I did. Kikome, you can't go to help fight Shishio."

She scowled. "Why not?"

"Because there's a risk of you dying."

"I don't think I will."

"Kikome, you're throwing away your life for a man," Shishou said. "I don't want that to happen."

"Believe me, I'm not about to die for him," Kikome said crossly. "So don't worry. I'm going."

"Don't—"

"Shishou, please, I'm not going to—"

"Kikome, your mother wouldn't want it."

Kikome stopped in the middle of her protest and stared.

"What?"

"I said your mother wouldn't want it."

"I have a mother?" she said with horror.

Shishou lifted an eyebrow. "Normally, you don't react to hearing that you have a mother with disgust, you know."

He sighed and took a drink from his sake cup.

"Kikome, I called you here to tell you about your past."

"But…you said you just found me. Like Kenshin."

"I lied," he said bluntly. "I actually knew your mother."

He took another drink from the cup and refilled it again.

"Her name was Nato Ayame. She was the daughter of a poor family that lived in the outskirts of Kyoto. I met her when I was sixteen, and she was eighteen. We were lovers."

The katana fell out of Kikome's hands, clanging against the ground.

"You are not my biological father," Kikome said, convincing herself rather than Hiko. "Please don't say you are."

She had no idea what she would do if Shishou was her father; all these years of seeing him as a teacher would be tainted if he really was.

"I'm not," Shishou replied.

Relief.

"Now…you should probably sit down. This will take a while."

Kikome obliged, her legs obediently buckling under her as she sat formally in front of her teacher, not knowing whether she wanted to hear the story about her mother or not.

"To begin with…your mother was very beautiful. Despite her poor bearings, many men came to court her, though she refused most offers, since she was looking for a marriage of love. We discussed marriage at some point, but it was rather early and awkward for me to get married at the time, since I hadn't finished my training yet."

"There was a rich man from Kyoto, of a wealthy family and noble upbringing, one of those government officials. His name was Takashi Hoshu. Despite the fact that he already had a wife, he was taken with Ayame and wanted to bring her to Kyoto as a mistress. When she refused, he…"

Shishou looked at her intently. His presence burned with latent fury, an anger mixed with sorrow and disgust that Kikome had never seen before. He looked fiercely at her, a lion ready to pounce, radiating with the ferocity of a man she could hardly recognized.

"He raped her, and cast her aside like some filthy piece of trash," Hiko spat. "After all, to him, she was just a woman, easily replaced, easily rid of. He wouldn't have killed her, of course, but the situation destroyed her soul regardless. When she found out she was pregnant, pregnant with you, she was almost suicidal."

Kikome lowered her eyes from Shishou's face. There was accusation in his tone, no matter how he tried to hide it. She could feel it herself, a stifling guilt that pounded on her shoulders. She didn't want to hear the rest. She knew it all. Nevertheless, Shishou was relentless, and continued his tale.

"I managed to convince her to stay alive, long enough to have the child. It wasn't your fault." That was a lie.

"But…your birth ended up killing Ayame. Her body was unstable, and the pain from childbirth was too much. I…managed to stay with her until the end, and after you had been born…all she did was ask me to raise you. Her parents refused to take in the child of a man they hated."

"I couldn't manage to raise you immediately; I wasn't finished with Hiten, and I was hardly a man yet. So I struck a deal with your grandparents, to raise you for five years… and I'd take you in after that."

There was a oppressive silence. Her mind raced, but was stagnant. Her hands shook slightly as they gripped the cloth in front of her. She didn't care about hearing about her mother. All there was inside her was the fear of being loathed by her teacher, the man that raised her. How had he looked at her all these years? As a burden, placed by a former lover…the illegitimate child of a corrupt man and the woman he adored…did he not wince every time he saw her? Did he ever feel the need to kill her, to destroy the image of his past, the offspring of his lover and the man who stole her life away?

"I'm sorry," she barely managed to say. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm—"

She felt his strong hand grip her shoulder tightly.

"Stop it," he said gently. "Don't apologize. Never, never did I see you as a burden."

"N-no, that's impossible," Kikome said, voice trembling, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I hate this, I hate myself, I-I—"

Hiko silenced her, pulling her into his warm embrace, soothing her, calming her down. Vague memories flooded into her mind…Shishou holding her gently as he rocked her gently on his lap, like a father to a caring daughter. Kikome felt like a child, once again in the arms of her parent.

"It's true, when I took you in, it was awkward. It was hard not to think of the Takashi bastard when I saw you…but you resemble your mother more. No matter how hard I tried, it was difficult to resist the feeling to raise you like you were my own daughter."

Hiko's low timbre resonated gently in her ears, yet the guilt did not alleviate.

"We aren't related by blood, Kikome. But still, I see you as _my_ daughter. Not his. In a way, you are Ayame and my daughter."

He broke away from her and patted her head.

"Don't forget that."

He leaned back and picked up an empty cup, filling it up and handing it to her.

"Drink up. I'm not telling you the story to make you guilty; I'm telling it to you to make you stay behind."

The liquid was tasteless and cool on her tongue. Kikome steadied the beating of her heart, casting aside the fear she had before.

"After hearing about this, how your mother gave her life up for you, would you still willingly go and throw your life away for no particular reason?"

She drained the cup and set it down. Sokusai looked her master straight in the eye, then made a low, formal bow, palms in front of her on the wooden surface.

"K-Kikome," Hiko sputtered. "What are you doing? Get up, what the hell—"

She obliged, and looked at him seriously.

"Thank you for raising me. But…I am still going to go," she said firmly. "I am not going to be bound down by the chains of my mother, by my past, a past that I am unfamiliar with."

She stood up and approached him.

"But I am bound by you," she continued. "I am indebted to you, for raising me, for teaching me, for caring for me like a father. To me, you are my only parent. You are one of the few things I would be afraid to leave behind if I were to die. So I won't."

Sokusai touched her teacher's face gently, reassuringly.

"I promise that I won't die. I will not throw away the life that you gave me. Nor will I throw away the techniques you have taught me. And so…"

She clenched her fist in her hand.

"I will forge my own road. I will survive."

She made another bow towards him, deeply, gracefully.

"I'll return to you. I'll come back, and we can go together to pay our respects to my mother. So wait for my safe return. Wait for your daughter."

Kikome gave a brief smile and disappeared out of the house.

"Thank you, Shishou."

*************

The last bits of violet colored clouds disappeared from the sky as the night set in. The moon shone as Kikome looked out the window, eyes unfocused.

She couldn't sleep. No matter how hard she tried, her brain refused to shut down, and her thoughts swirled around people and things.

She did not care so much for her past as for the pain she brought her teacher. Nevertheless, she knew that Shishou did not hate her, and the thought made her glad. What she told him earlier was true. She would write her own tale, walk her own road.

Kikome turned to see what Kenshin and Saitou were doing, as the carriage fell silent. Saitou's golden gaze was on her.

She smirked at him. If he thought he could order her around, he was wrong. Sokusai's independence was undiminished.


	24. Compromise

**Chapter 22: Compromise**

The carriage rumbled to a stop in Osaka Bay harbor. Ships lined the coast, most anchored and still, while a few of the largest and oldest ones in the bay were steaming and ready for departure.

The four of them jumped from the carriage and assembled on a small plateau jutting out into the sea.

"Which ship, Battousai?" Saitou asked.

"The wooden one, closest to us," Kenshin replied. "We'll have to cut the hull of the ship without them noticing us…"

"I guess we'll have to swim," Kikome said with disdain.

"If you're afraid of getting your clothes wet, stay here with the moron and find a boat to get there," Saitou said.

Kikome ignored him.

"Hang on, I have something better than swords for destroying the hull," Sano said, fishing for something in his pocket. "Ta-da!" He withdrew three small cylindrical bombs. "Katsu gave these to me before I left for Kyoto. They're the latest model! They don't even need fuses."

"Idiot," Saitou said automatically.

Sano turned on him, annoyed. "Why is it that every time, you say something?! What did I say this time?"

"If you don't know, you really are an idiot," Saitou muttered.

"Sano-chan, when bombs get wet, the gunpowder becomes inactive and they become duds," Kikome said impatiently. "If you're going to bomb it, you'll have to get there without getting wet."

"Exactly," Saitou said. "We'll just have to wait—"

A huge explosion cut off Saitou's sentence. They turned in the direction of the ship.

"What the hell?"

"Shishio's ship self-destructed?"

Kikome scrutinized the scene.

"No…" she said slowly, unable to see farther past the smoke. "I don't think that's it…"

The smoke blew away, revealing the masterpiece of Shishio's ship.

Kikome's eyes widened as she surveyed the new ship. It was completely covered with steel, magnificent and gleaming, contrasting from its pathetic disguise.

"Holy—"

"A battleship like that owned by an individual," Saitou said in unwilling awe, "no wonder the Meiji government isn't going to last very long. Can you cut through iron?"

Not knowing who the question was directed towards, Kikome chose not to answer as her eyes flitted from place to place, debating how she could get to the ship without swimming. Fast as she was on land, in water, she was rather hampered.

"Yes, but not while swimming," Kenshin answered Saitou's question. "Our plans are changed. Sano, find a boat and get as close as you can to damage the hull. Saitou, Kikome, and I will draw their attention."

She could feel the air pressure change in the wind towards them. Something was coming.

"Let's go!"

The four of them split as the cannon ball came pelting towards them. Kikome flipped into the air, hearing the simultaneous splashes as Kenshin and Saitou dove into the water. She spotted the road of broken wood floating on the surface of the waters and marked her route.

With the power gained from Shukuchi, she instantaneously disappeared from her place in the sky to the wood scraps. Kikome balanced herself delicately as she found herself on the last one closest to the ship, about thirty yards away.

Gathering her strength for a split second, she propelled herself forward, skidding across the surface of the water and up the side of the ship. She arrived at the edge, ramming her sword into the head of the first person she met. Her dark eyes glanced around the deck, noticing the remaining black-clad soldiers and the lack of her allies.

Sokusai gave her loveliest smile.

"Hello."

The edge of her blade disconnected the heads of three men from the rest of their bodies, then rammed through the chest of another.

"Good evening, Shishio-san," she said, looking up to the mummy-like figure on the next level of the ship.

"My, my, my," Shishio said, licking his lips, "good evening to you as well, dear Sokusai. Fast as ever….perhaps even more so. Your Shinsoku seems to have reached new heights."

"Perhaps."

"Ah, not letting your guard down? Very well…it seems that the rest of your acquaintances are finally here. So slow, compared to you."

Saitou and Kenshin burst from the water and leaped on to the deck, drenched.

"You got here quickly," Saitou remarked, eyeing her dry clothes.

Her beatific smile was turned to the highest degree. "What was that, Saitou? Didn't you say I should wait with Sano-chan and find a boat?"

"Welcome to the fight to the death, is what I'd like to say," Shishio said, unknowingly interrupting their argument. "But honestly, Battousai, did you think you were the only one who knew your enemy?"

Kikome noticed a row of bullets along a chain, and diverted her attention to a massive Gatling gun positioned along the edge towards Sano, who had chosen Kikome's same route and was hopping along on the wooden pieces.

"I knew you were only a decoy! Fire the Gatling gun!"

"Sano!"

Kenshin's yell was drowned out by the sound of the incessant fire. Kikome's stomach gave an unpleasant lurch. There was no way Sano could protect himself in the middle of the ocean.

A column of water fired up into the air, deflecting the bullets and hiding Sano from view. His figure threw the bombs he had clutched in his hand at the ship. Seconds ticked by; all eyes were on those three small grenades.

The instant they connected with the surface of the ship, an incredible explosion took place, reverberating throughout the rest of the ship. The levels behind them exploded as the ship became unbalanced, shifting from side to side.

Shishio's face changed from one of sublime glory and triumph to anger.

"Looks like I underestimated you all," he snarled.

"Shall we finish our fight from Shingetsu village?" Soujirou asked. Kikome had not noticed him standing behind Shishio.

"No…not here. In two days, at Mt. Hiei, the Juppongatana's hideout. We'll settle it there."

"Ten versus three, eh?" Saitou remarked. "Not being doubtful of the odds, but wouldn't two on two be quicker?"

"Three," Kikome corrected. She was ignored.

Kenshin placed a hand on the hilt of Saitou's sword. "The invitation to Mt. Hiei…we accept."

Shishio disappeared from the deck, following a servant who had come from a lower floor to hasten their departure.

Soujirou gave a little wave to Kikome.

"Nato-san, are you sure you don't want to come? Please?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"What makes you so intent on having me with you all?" she asked. "We'll see each other soon anyway."

"Oh, but it's so much more interesting when you're on the 'bad' side. We would be such good friends, too."

Soujirou followed his master and descended the stairs. A few minutes passed.

"Why didn't you accept a fight here and be done with it?" Saitou questioned Kenshin.

"The people on this boat were probably chosen for their loyalty to Shishio. Had Shishio stayed, they would have as well, and the number of casualties would've been higher."

"Tsk."

"We should probably get off," Kikome said dryly. "Don't want us to be the ones drowning after watching them leave."

Sano burst from the water, drenched, with a grin on his face.

"Okay, Shishio! Where's that bastard? I want to see his face!"

Kenshin pointed to the boat where Shishio and his subordinates had left.

"What the hell?!!" Sano ran over to the side and began gesturing wildly to the disappearing rescue boat. "Come back here! You coward!"

Saitou sighed. "Idiot."

Kikome peered over the edge of the Rengoku, examining if she could get to the shore without getting wet.

"Hey, I'm going to go ahead and find a boat," she said. "Be right back."

Disregarding Kenshin's indignant disapproval, she flew from the boat across the water and arrived at the shoreline within a few seconds. Kikome spotted a boat and decided to tell the upcoming policemen to row up to the Rengoku and find the three men. It was too much of a hassle to actually go herself.

*************

Sokusai's footwork had become even more impressive as of late. Saitou could hardly follow her as she seemed to evaporate from the ship to the coast.

As the group arrived at the harbor, Sokusai was already waiting for them impatiently.

"My goodness, boats are slow," was her first remark as they made their way to dry land.

"I'm sure if you rowed, it would've been faster," Sagara said, equally annoyed. "Why didn't you come get us?"

Sokusai made a face. "And stay in the same boat with you dripping wet people?"

She yawned. "How long back to Kyoto? I'm dead on my feet…"

"Probably three hours, at least," Battousai answered. "You can sleep on the carriage."

"Maybe it's just faster if I just run back…"

"No," Battousai said firmly. "You need to rest."

"Yeah, yeah," she said lazily, walking to the carriage.

"You shouldn't be so confident," Saitou said as Battousai and Sagara fell behind them in conversation.

"Why not?" she said in her melodious voice, lined with a tint of annoyance.

"Overestimating yourself so much will cause you to make mistakes. Knowing you, it's quite possible."

"Shut the hell up Saitou."

He shrugged. "Just giving you a fair warning."

Sokusai's dark eyes flashed. "What's up with you lately? We normally get along better than the others, but it seems like your attitude has taken a turn for a worse."

"I wonder who made it that way," Saitou said acidly.

She stopped and glared at him. "Are you serious? You're acting like a child, Saitou. Did my decision to go with Kenshin instead of you impact you that much?"

The words stung but Saitou made sure his face did not reflect it.

"Of course not."

"Then stop it. I can't think of any other reason for you to be so insanely confrontational."

He approached her and slid his finger up her neck to her chin, forcing him to look directly into his eyes.

"I don't think I'm the only one with a slightly belligerent disposition here."

"Do you want me to slap you again?"

"Try it."

Her hand moved in one fluid motion towards his face. He grabbed her thin wrist easily and held firmly in place.

Her left hand held her blade at his throat.

"Do let go," she said pointedly.

Saitou obliged and released his grip. Her slender fingers slipped out of his grasp and sheathed her sword.

She stalked away to the carriage, and refused to glance his way as the entire party assembled in the carriage.

"Man, I'm tired," Sagara said wearily. "What time is it?"

"Two a.m.," Saitou answered, studying a watch he left in his pocket. Much to his displeasure, Sokusai was sitting right across from him, easily in his line of vision.

"Ugh." She curled her knees to her chest and leaned against the wall as the carriage began to pick up pace. "It smells like salt water in here…nasty." She pushed open a window.

"Sorry that we can't run on water," Sagara said sarcastically.

"You should be," she said, closing her eyes. "You smell awful."

The rest of the group became quiet as each individual drifted off to a state of semi-consciousness…or at least that was what Saitou surmised. The Sagara idiot fell fast asleep, snoring away like a moron. It was hard to tell if Battousai was asleep, but after a few moments, Saitou thought that it was safe to assume that he had dozed off.

"You can stop pretending you're asleep, you know."

Sokusai ignored him, but Saitou caught sight of her fingers twitching around the hilt of her blade.

"I thought you looked abnormally tired. So you have insomnia?"

Her eyes opened. "If you know I'm having trouble falling asleep, then the kindest thing you could do would be to shut your trap and give me some peace."

He chuckled. "I doubt that would be of much help."

She shifted herself gingerly in her seat, careful not to disturb Battousai.

"What do you want, Saitou? I'm weary of your ridiculously derogatory comments."

"Believe me, I am as well." He withdrew a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Ugh, they're soaked."

"You'd stink up the place anyway."

He sighed. "Sokusai, dear, why don't we put aside our differences in the past and reconcile?"

"My point exactly. Except you never really got around to hearing it."

Saitou watched as she leaned back in her seat, facial muscles relaxing as she sighed as well.

"I don't like arguing with you, hard as that is to believe," she said. "But it was really unnecessary when you were acting so high and mighty about me talking with the Soujirou kid. I can take care of myself, alright?"

"I was simply…cautioning you."

"In a very condescending manner."

"Point taken. Then, Sokusai, shall we compromise? Neither snipes at the other for a while? Neither interferes with the other's business?"

"Gladly."

She gave a brief grin, a smile unlike the one she had given him on the Rengoku. Saitou felt the emotions he had suppressed since he left Tokyo resurge.

Sokusai closed her eyes. "Now shut up and let me sleep."

"You won't be able to fall asleep."

"Pardon?"

"I have a theory to your insomnia symptom."

"Really now?"

"Indeed. Let me just ask you one thing. When's the last time you slept properly? Deeply, mind you, not those nightmare-infested nights you have most commonly."

Sokusai's fair lips pursed together and didn't reply.

Saitou smirked triumphantly. "Let me guess. When we slept together?"

"Please don't phrase it that way," she said harshly.

"What other way is there to phrase it?"

"I don't think I need therapy from someone who refuses to call me by my name."

"I stopped because I thought it made you uncomfortable."

"Lies."

She pretended to be asleep, ignoring him deliberately. Saitou knew he had won the argument.

"Sokusai, if you don't want to believe me, then test my theory."

"I adamantly refuse. I can deal with insomnia, once someone finally decides to shut the hell up."

"Tsk, foulmouthed today, aren't you."

"Bad temperaments come with long days. It's been a very long day today, and it'll get even longer if you don't let me end it."

"You won't be able to."

She let out a snarl and turned away from him. Saitou let the conversation drop. He knew he was right. As much as Sokusai was unwilling to admit it, he played a significant role in her life. Especially since she realized so easily that he had stopped calling her by her name. It meant that she was worried about it.

Saitou gave one last smirk and dozed off as well. His problems with this woman could be dealt with after Shishio was out of the way. Along with Shinomori Aoshi.


	25. Confession

**Chapter 23: Confession**

Her legs hurt. Damn it. So much for showing off with the Shukuchi all day.

Kikome stood up and made her way to the restroom. One glance in the mirror reflected the storm of a night she suffered through before. Her tangled hair laid in random strands across her face; others stood up stiffly, curling from the top of her head.

As she dunked her head in the cold water, Kikome's thoughts trailed back to what Saitou said the night before. That she couldn't sleep without him. She surfaced from the water and exhaled, feeling much better.

Saitou could just go to hell.

Kikome shuffled through her clothes and realized that she couldn't wear either pair of outfits she had brought with her. She had stupidly changed in the middle of the day yesterday after training, and now her extra set was likewise drenched in the scent of sweat and saltwater after yesterday's excursion.

She poked her head out her door.

"Excuse me," she said to the maid in the hallway.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I don't have an extra set of clothes with me. Would you mind getting me some?"

"Of course. Any color, then?"

"Eh…" Kikome thought for a moment. Her mother's name popped in her head. Ayame. It meant iris, flower of the night.

"Lilac," she blurted out before she thought.

"Certainly, I'll get that to you soon enough. Will you need help dressing?"

"Dressing, why—" Oh damn. She was talking about a kimono. Of course.

"Actually, yes, I will," Kikome said grudgingly.

The maid bowed and made her way down the hallway while Kikome retracted her head into her room. Might as well take a shower.

The bath was warm and the room was steamy when Kikome heard noise from her room. The maid must be back. Well, nice as it was, she was about done bathing anyway.

She got up and tossed her bathrobe over her shoulders, not bothering to dry her hair or tie the belt around her waist. She slid the door joining her room and the bathroom open.

Saitou turned to face her, smoking a cigarette.

"Oh, shit—"

She slammed the door shut and hastily dried herself. Kikome was quite conscious of her somewhat erotic appearance, with wet hair and her robes not even fastened properly.

"What the hell are you doing here so early?" she yelled, incensed. "Knock like a gentleman, would you?"

"Never thought you'd be so modest when a man saw you naked."

She knew he was smirking.

"Shut up," she said furiously. "I'm not naked. Now kindly tell me why you're in my room. How'd you find me?"

"I asked around."

"What?"

"Kikome, it's not very hard to find you. All I have to ask people is whether they've seen an outrageously beautiful woman around dressed in men's clothing with a katana in her hand. Pretty accurate description, no?"

Kikome, now appropriately clad, once again opened the door to face him, cheeks flaring a bit.

He blinked.

"Calling me by my name now?" she said lightly.

"Well it seems like you no longer mind."

"No, it's more like you're no longer so conscious about it," she snarled.

"Kikome, didn't you say that we would compromise and stop sniping at each other at every given opportunity? And after all I did to make sure you slept well last night…"

His golden eyes were dancing in mockery. She decided not to answer.

He reached up and caressed her cheek lightly.

"You look…so beautiful," he whispered in her ear. Kikome could feel his lips trail across her cheek and towards her lips.

She pushed him away from her, hissing. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Kikome called evenly.

The maid slid the door open and stopped, surprised that Saitou was there.

"I…um…I can come back later?"

"No, you stay," Kikome said coolly. She pointed to Saitou. "You, get out."

He gave a mocking bow. "As you wish. I'll be waiting for you downstairs."

"You don't need to," she replied.

He waved indifferently and disappeared.

"Please tell the front desk to refrain from letting others into my room so easily," Kikome told the maid coldly as she helped her get dressed. "I was completely unprepared."

"Um…yes, ma'am."

Her hair was still damp, but Kikome wove it into a loose bun regardless. It curled behind her ear inexpertly. She sighed. Without Miyuki, becoming a proper lady was impossible.

Kikome arrived at the lobby of the hotel slowly, hoping that Saitou had decided to leave since she had taken so long to prepare. He hadn't. Smoking calmly against a wall, his persona captured the attention of passerby women who eyed his well-built profile with admiration.

"Took you long enough."

"My bad," she said without remorse.

He raised an eyebrow. "You left your katana?"

She noticed her empty hands. "Oh. Oops. Well…I'll just go back to get it then."

Saitou caught her shoulder as she turned around.

"It's all right, you can leave it today."

"I won't feel safe without it."

"I'll be with you."

It was she who raised an eyebrow this time. "If Shishio's cronies feel like attacking us, I doubt you'd be able to take them on while protecting me."

"You can just use your excellent footwork to run away."

"I'm afraid a yukata limits my ability to do so."

"Then just trust me."

Kikome opened her mouth to retort, and caught sight of the genuineness of Saitou's statement in his eyes. She smiled reluctantly.

"Then it's up to you."

To leave her own safeguard behind and place her life in his hands… even after all their struggles, why did she still trust him so blindly?

*************

Saitou's resolution to see Sokusai just as an acquaintance had gone down the drain. It was hard to keep it fortified when she looked so scandalously gorgeous all the time. Other men in the lobby eyed her with interest as she left the room. Saitou stood protectively by her.

The two of them walked slowly along the streets, observing the small repairs to the few houses that had been damaged the night before.

"I forgot to ask, how bad was it here last night?" she asked.

"Not bad at all…only about fifty police casualties, and no civilian deaths either."

Sokusai shrugged. "Fifty is still a lot."

"That's what Battousai said."

She sighed. "You're so callous, Saitou."

"Hmph."

"Any plans for today?"

"I have to get back to the office later to sort out some things, but that's about it."

They stopped at a nearby vendor so Kikome could buy her breakfast.

"Do you want anything, Saitou?"

"I already ate."

"These sweets are really good," she said coaxingly.

"No thanks. I'm not a fan of sweets."

"What a shame." He caught her looking at the vendor next to the one they were at. It was selling flowers.

"Saitou, what's today?" Kikome said abruptly.

"May…24th. Why?"

She paused momentarily, thinking.

"What is it?" Saitou questioned.

"It's my birthday," she replied, walking to the flower seller.

"…Really? How old are you?"

"Twenty-six," she said with a grimace. "But we're not going to talk about that."

She picked a bucket of flowers up from the shelf. They were irises.

"I'll take these," she announced, tossing the shopkeeper some change.

"Birthday present for yourself?"

"No. We're going to visit a grave."

The situation had suddenly turned awkward.

"Whose grave?"

"Souzou's. My first lover's. My birthday is the anniversary of his death day. Ironic, isn't it?"

She cradled the bucket of flowers close to her. Saitou stayed quiet, not wishing to interrupt the silence that had settled between the two of them. Honestly, she was brutally cruel. Taking him to visit the grave of the person whose death changed her into the assassin she was now.

"You don't have to come with me," Kikome said, breaking the silence.

So she was aware of his unvoiced opinion, to some degree.

"No, I will," he said shortly.

"Don't blame me if you hate it then."

They continued along a road that led outside of the urban area and into a pastoral place lined with trees. Kikome led the way up a hilly area, finally arriving to a small clearing next to a winding stream, secluded away from the loud noises of the city.

"Here is fine," she said, placing the bucket on the ground and looking around. "Any closer and Shishou would notice we're here."

Saitou glanced around. "I don't see a grave."

"He doesn't have one," Kikome said simply. "He was executed by the government, remember? They probably burned the body."

She let out a breath and closed her eyes. "This is the place where we first met, twelve years ago to the day. I've visited Kyoto every few years to come here and think…to remember…and to, I guess, forget."

She clasped her hands together and fell quiet, praying. What was she thinking about? The memories, he supposed. The love. It sounded ridiculous in his thoughts.

He tried to picture the scene from twelve years ago. She was fourteen then. And Sagara…how old was he? Eighteen? Nineteen? Either way, it was a premature relationship. Fourteen was too young to be serious.

But the impact of his death was strong. To change her to this degree. Saitou remembered the first time he met her, with Okita. Okita had later remarked that he had never seen anyone so young with eyes so cold. Okita had voiced a need to make her part of the Shinsengumi, not to add to their strength, but to host a young woman and expose her to warmth. Saitou had thought the idea was absurd and naïve. Only when Kikome had wanted to leave after half a year did he notice the change that Okita had brought to her. She had departed with a smile.

It was unlikely that Okita didn't think of Kikome as more than a friend or a sister. Even years after she left, he still thought of her, complaining of her absence. When he had been dying…Saitou dove into his thoughts.

*************

"Saitou-taichou."

"What is it?"

"It's Okita-taichou. The last fight seemed to have done a great deal to him; he's wounded and his health is deteriorating. He's asked to see you."

Saitou stood up immediately and ran to Okita's room. One look at Okita and Saitou knew it was almost over.

Okita's body was covered in blood, whether from his wounds or from the tuberculosis, Saitou didn't know. He rushed to Okita's side.

"Hah, you came," Okita said weakly. "I look pathetic, don't I?"

"Stop talking," Saitou said gruffly. "You're going to make it worse."

"It's all right. I know I'm dying."

"Don't say that, you're only nineteen. Kids like you are resilient."

"You can stop lying through your teeth. All of us here know that I'm not going to survive. So the doctors can stop trying now, and go tend others that have a chance. Thank you." Okita smiled.

The doctors looked at each other uncertainly, then at Saitou.

"Go," he ordered.

The room emptied, leaving only Okita and Saitou left. Okita exhaled slowly.

"I wanted to talk to you a bit before I die, because these thoughts have been with me since she left."

Saitou knew instantly who he was talking about.

"Sokusai, you mean."

Okita nodded. "I wish I had the courage to tell her before she left us. That I wanted her to stay…so badly. That I needed her here. I thought, by letting her in the Shinsengumi, I'd be saving her from that world of utter darkness that revenge brings. But what's ironic, I ended up being the one saved. I think I ended up needing her more than she needed me."

Okita's eyes closed, and his breaths became shorter. He endured.

"Saitou-san, do you believe in reincarnation?"

"No."

"Ha, that's funny, because I don't either." Even now, he was still smiling. "But somehow, I wish that I could be reincarnated as another person…to tell her how much I need her. I wish she were here…"

His voice was becoming raspy.

"So, Saitou-san, I want to leave you with a task for me." Okita opened his eyes and gripped Saitou's hand.

"You must survive this war," Okita said fiercely. "You must survive it, and you must find her again. And you must take care of her. And you must tell her…that I…"

"Love her as a man?" Saitou suggested.

"No. That I love her as a brother."

"What?"

"I don't want her to feel guilty. I know she doesn't love me like she loved Sagara Souzou. She cares for me like a sister would for a brother. So I want you to tell her that I reciprocate in the same way."

"Okita-kun, perhaps it's better to tell her the truth—"

"No," he said firmly. "I want to cause her the least pain possible. It's…too delicate of a subject."

He sighed. The grip on Saitou's hand loosened.

"So you'll do that, won't you?"

"Yes."

"…Do you love her as well?"

"…No."

Okita gave one last smile. "You say that now. Once you see her again, your thoughts might change. Because I know…that she'll be beautiful."

He drew a shaky breath and said softly, almost to himself, "I want to meet her again. In some way or another."

He let the breath out and closed his eyes for the last time.

"Thank you, Saitou-san."

Saitou watched as Okita passed on before him.

*************

He could hear her calling him.

"Saitou. Saitou!"

He could see her wave her hand frantically in front of his face.

"Are you there?"

"Yeah," he answered, blinking. "Sorry."

She gave him a look full of concern. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I was just daydreaming."

"All right then." Kikome's eyes didn't trust his assurance. "Well, I'm done here. We can go to your office now."

He looked at the empty bucket in her hand. "Where did the irises go?"

"I tossed them down the stream."

"Why?"

"Because I'm sure it'll eventually reach him, somehow or another."

She readjusted her hair, fidgeting.

"Forget it," she said, frustrated. Kikome pulled the hair tie out and let the black masses flow like water down her back. She ran her fingers through it casually and let it fall naturally.

Saitou couldn't help himself. With her standing before him, looking so gorgeous, he lost all restraint. He pulled her to him and kissed her, running his hands through her hair. Okita was right; what Saitou felt about her before was completely different from what he felt for her now. Maybe it was because of Okita's obvious infatuation with her that Saitou had backed down. But now, Okita was out of the way. Sagara Souzou was as well. It was simply Saitou and Shinomori Aoshi left in the picture now.

Saitou felt her break away from him. He caught her wrists in his hands, making sure not to let her get away.

"Is this why you told me to leave my katana behind?" she asked savagely.

"No," Saitou answered.

He placed her wrists in one hand and used the other to touch her slightly swollen lips. She did not move. Saitou kissed her again, more gently. Kikome surprisingly did not struggle. He sought to coax her out of her unresponsive nature, and was pleased as he felt her body relax, her mouth open slightly as she responded. Saitou took the chance, letting go of her wrists to once again trap her into his embrace. She did not move willingly to him, but did not pull away.

His hands crept up to her neck, caressing the bare skin, debating whether or not to take his chances and go any further than he was already. He decided not to. It was a good decision.

Kikome finally snapped away from him, gasping for air. She was so inexperienced.

"Stop it," she said, her breaths short. He ignored and leaned in for another kiss.

Her hand sought for something around his waist.

"Kikome, what are you—"

She withdrew the katana clipped to his belt and slid it in between them.

"Turns out that I always feel more secure with a blade in my hand," she said, regaining her composure. "Will you please stop now?"

He obliged and stepped back. Kikome's hands did not loosen their hold around the hilt.

"Why do you always have to do things that cause our relationship to be awkward?" she demanded.

"You already know how I feel," Saitou replied coolly, reaching in his pocket for a light. "If you hate being around me, then don't encourage us being together."

"That's not the point!" she said incredulously. "There's such thing as a middle ground, Saitou! I don't have to hate you, nor do I have to love you! Liking you is perfectly fine!"

"Not in our case," he replied. "Not when I feel this way. Kikome, I think it's impossible for any man associated with you to simply want 'like' from you."

"Saitou—"

"When I was daydreaming, I was remembering Okita's death."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"When you left the Shinsengumi, Okita kept complaining how you weren't there, that you left him behind. In short, it was obvious that the relationship you two held was more than just 'like.' So what do you think it was?"

"It was familial love," Kikome said almost defensively.

"Not for Okita."

Her eyes widened. "So you mean—"

"Yes, he loved you more than as a brother. When he was dying, he asked me to do a few things."

Saitou lifted up a finger with every requirement he enumerated.

"To live through the Boshin War. Which I did. To find you again. Which I did. To care for you. Which I am. And lastly, to tell you that he loved you as a brother."

Saitou watched with slight satisfaction as Sokusai's perfect glass face winced with pain and guilt. He regretted the feeling immediately.

"I chose not to tell you his lie, because I don't think you would've believed such a shallow lie anyway. He also asked me if I loved you. Back then, I answered no. But then he said that my feelings would change the next time I saw you, that I would perhaps learn to love you. Now, I think that he's given his love for you to me."

He approached her, wrenching the hilt out of her hand and dropping the katana to the ground. He brought her pale hand to his lips and kissed it like he would kiss the hand of a goddess.

"Kikome. Aishiteru. I love you."


	26. Undiminished

**Chapter 24: Undiminished**

She simply stared at him, unblinkingly. Was it shock? Surprise, definitely. Moments passed, and neither moved.

Kikome finally took a deep breath.

"Saitou, I can't—"

"What can't you do? You can't respond to it right now? Why? Because of Shinomori Aoshi?"

"…Yes."

"And why is that? If you didn't feel the same, why did you respond when I kissed you?"

"That was different—"

He cut her off, placing his lips on hers, seeking for her reaction. She relaxed immediately in his arms, and that was all he needed to know.

"See?" he said smugly. "You feel safe in my arms. The moment I touch you, the moment I kiss you, you drop your guard. Isn't that a sign of dependency?"

"No, it's not!" she said defensively, almost as if she were convincing herself. "You just caught me off guard! That's it."

"Twice?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "Now stop." Her eyes were unyielding, refusing to give him any more ground for hope.

"I get it, I get it," he said, resigned. "I'll stop my pursuit until after the fight tomorrow."

"I'd appreciate it if you stopped all together."

"I can't hold on that long."

She glared at him, and Saitou gazed back at her relentlessly. He was not about to back down now. Within two days, everything would be elucidated.

*************

Kikome sat in a tea shop, eating her lunch, alone, thank God. Any more time around Saitou and she'd end up going insane. His ridiculous advances, his constant gaze…those golden eyes that danced like lights and his incessant smirk. Kikome frowned. Was it annoyance in her heart?

She stared at her lunch, a simple bowl of rice with some soup. Her appetite had diminished considerably since her times in the mountain. She could swear she was getting thinner. The constant pressure from meeting the past, the insomnia, Aoshi, Saitou, Shishou, her past…it was no wonder that she was so exhausted all the time.

What did she really think of Saitou? More than a "friend." More than she felt for Okita? No, what she felt for Okita had been different. Just a sibling kind of love, a gratitude that he had saved her from the world where she was alone and rampaging. She prayed Saitou hold tight to his word and stop luring her away from her goals.

A figure slipped in the seat across from her. Her chopsticks were at his neck the moment he reached the seat.

"Soujirou-san?"

"Ah, so it is you, Nato-san! I thought so, but I wasn't sure. You look different in female apparel."

"You're not armed, I hope?"

"Nope."

Kikome withdrew her chopsticks.

"Déjà vu, hm? It's amusing seeing you here again."

"Yes, but it's rather pleasant, isn't it? I must say, you look amazing."

"Thank you. Do you want anything?"

"Sure! Your treat again? I feel bad."

The waitress came over and Soujirou ordered his food. After receiving his meal, he resumed the conversation.

"So, Nato-san, I did some research on my own while I was running around Japan trying to find the Juppongatana."

"Research on?"

"You," Soujirou said simply, stuffing rice in his mouth. "For some reason, I am really disappointed that we aren't on the same side. So I figured I'd try to find some things that could…persuade you?"

"I'm afraid there's nothing that will change my mind at this point. For heaven's sake, Soujirou-san, the fight is _tomorrow_. Why am I here eating lunch with you like tomorrow's not going to happen?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. You invited me in the first place. Besides, I'm going to give up asking you to come with me…it seems you won't anyway. I wonder why…special feelings for a certain police officer?"

Kikome stiffened and replied evenly, "Of course not."

"I should hope not," he replied, no longer smiling. "You seem to be a bit too good for him. And for Aoshi-san, for that matter."

Aoshi. Kikome hadn't forgotten about him. Even in her rocky relationship with Saitou, Aoshi loomed incessantly in her mind, once again disturbing her sleep last night. Her hand clenched into a fist unconsciously as she thought about seeing him the next day.

"Aoshi," she said in a strained conversational tone, "how's he doing?"

"He doesn't do much, really. Just sits there and waits. For you or for Himura-san? I don't know. But back to my research."

Soujirou drank some tea and cleared his throat.

"So I was wondering why we have an unnatural affinity for each other. No, not affinity in the way you see Saitou-san or Aoshi-san," he said hastily at her incredulous look. "No, more like…siblings? But I wouldn't know, since I haven't had any familial affinity before. Anyway, the feeling disturbed me a great bit, so I decided to look around in your background, for a reason to tie you to the Juppongatana, or to drive you away. Either would work."

He was annoyed. It was the first bit of emotion that Kikome had been able to read from him, and it pleased her, though it was a negative emotion.

"So I dug around the history of the Bakamatsu days. It was hard to find, mind you. You have literally no information in the files of the Meiji government. There wasn't even a note that you were a female, or where you came from. Nevertheless, I persevered."

"How?"

"I surmised that the government didn't have information about you because you weren't their ally. So I thought, if not the Ishin Shinshi, then you must have been with the Shinsengumi. I decided to look through their files instead."

The annoyance was growing deeper. Kikome began to feel uneasy, wishing wholeheartedly that her katana was with her. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, readying her chopsticks at the slightest motion from Soujirou.

"I figured out something interesting. The Shinsengumi captains generally accepted you as a stand-in ally, and you were quite closely associated with them. Two of the captains were tied with your name constantly. Saitou Hajime and Okita Soushi."

"That's nothing."

"Right, your relationship with Saitou-san is expected, given how you close you two are right now."

"Please stop hinting that Saitou and I have some sort of relationship. It's ridiculous."

"Fine, we'll drop that," Soujirou consented, almost frowning. "He's not what I want to talk about either. It's Okita."

"What about him?"

"Please, Nato-san, don't feign stupidity. It's not believable. We both know how much I resemble him."

"Yes, you do," she agreed. "And?"

"Well, isn't it obvious that you're just seeing me as a replacement?"

She gave him an dubious look, masking her contemplation on how to address the situation.

"Not necessarily," she said slowly. "True, the first time I saw you, I thought you looked exactly like Okita-kun…so there was some interest. But it's not like that's the reason that we can calmly sit here talking like we're not enemies."

She leaned back in her seat, looking at Soujirou seriously.

"You're not Okita-kun," she said steadfastly. "And so our relationship is not like the one I had with him. Because Okita-kun was, in some sense, my savior, I'd be unable to kill him. You, on the other hand, I hardly know anything about. We are merely on the level of acquaintances. You're not necessarily my nemesis, but you're definitely not my ally. So I will have no reserves killing you if it leads to it tomorrow."

Soujirou's expression blanked, and he resumed his now fake-seeming smile.

"Wow, Nato-san, that's harsh."

"Do you believe what I said?"

He paused. "Does that mean it's not true?"

"I'm not sure myself," admitted Kikome. "But I know for certain, that if you were to kill Kenshin or anyone else coming with us tomorrow, I'd be sure to kill you as well. Keep that in mind."

"Hm. Well, that doesn't necessarily change things. Himura-san will still be the one to lose, and probably die. He can't possibly win against us, even with you, Saitou-san, and Sagara-san with him."

Kikome's black eyes narrowed. "Really."

"Mm. Himura, and you as well, if you don't fight me with the intent to kill, will never win because he doesn't wish to take anyone's life."

Kikome smiled coldly. "Only sixteen and an arrogant bastard."

"Oh, not arrogant, it's just that I know this already. The strong eat the weak. If you aren't willing to sacrifice, you can't possibly become the strongest."

"Is that Shishio's doctrine?"

"It is. And it's the truth."

Kikome didn't answer. She felt increasingly insecure, wishing fervently she had a weapon with her. Ever since she had been able to sense Soujirou's _ki_, the nonchalant murderous intent had also been revealed. If she sought for it, she could find it, and was increasingly wary of the smiling face. Why had Saitou let her leave her sword back in the hotel?

Noticing her silence, Soujirou attempted to continue the conversation himself.

"Tomorrow, Shishio-san is going to keep three of the Juppongatana with him, excluding Yumi-san and Houji-san."

"Who?"

"Shishio-san's lover and his most trusted advisor, respectively. The rest of the Ten Swords will be sent to the Aoiya."

Kikome didn't really care. They were Aoshi's subordinates. Besides, the Makimachi girl annoyed the hell out of her.

"Why did he only prepare three?" Kikome questioned. "Does he not know that Sano will be coming?"

"Oh, no, of course we've prepared someone to fight Sagara-san. We haven't prepared anyone for you though."

"Why—"

She cut off mid-sentence, understanding.

"You assume I'll take on Aoshi."

"Yes. You will, right? Because none of the rest of the Juppongatana will match up to you."

Her silence settled in again, and Soujirou did not attempt to continue the conversation any further. He finished his lunch hastily and stood up.

"Nato-san, I'd rather you not come at all tomorrow, you know."

"So you're saying that you don't want me to die?" she asked.

"…Yeah, I don't," he confessed. "So stay home, please? I think Himura and Saitou would prefer it that way as well."

"I decline. I'll see you tomorrow."

He let out a sigh. "Well, I did my best. I'd hate to kill you."

"The feeling's mutual," she said, sipping her tea as Soujirou began to leave. "Let's try to stay out of each other's ways."

"Sure."

He began to walk past her, and Kikome voiced what her conscience was urging her to say.

"Soujirou-san, Shishio's philosophy isn't necessarily true. You don't have to kill to be strong."

Soujirou stopped and turned around.

"Is that Nato Kikome or Hitokiri Sokusai speaking?" he asked in a steely tone.

She winced involuntarily at his frostiness.

"Both," she replied. "They're the same person."

"You know, Nato-san, you're a lot different from what I imagined you to be. I was so surprised the first time I saw you, when you were crying after Aoshi-san."

The jibe stung, but Kikome brushed it off.

"I've changed."

"Yes, you have," he agreed. "You've become more resolute. And softer, at the same time. What happened to the Sokusai who killed Shindou Tatewaki's men with a smile?"

"I wouldn't mind doing that again. But that happened under completely different circumstances. We're talking about you now."

"Shishio-san has taught me the truth. The strong live. The weak die. If you don't want to die, Nato-san, I suggest you not show mercy tomorrow."

The boy disappeared instantly into the crowds. Kikome sighed and finished her tea, reflecting on her own words. She really had changed since she met Aoshi and the rest of her past. She looked at her hand, thinking.

Had Sokusai gotten weaker? Had the identity of Nato Kikome destroyed her? Had she really been infected with the idea that friends and relationships could triumph over merciless strength? Who had changed her?

She clenched her hand into a fist and stood up, tossing the money on the table and striding away.

She had changed herself. External forces had certainly encouraged that change, but it was she who had chosen her road, her nature. Be it Aoshi or Saitou, Kenshin or Soujirou, anyone who attempted to dominate over her would be pushed aside.

Kikome stopped by a lake and looked at her reflection. The haughty tilt in her chin had not disappeared. It reflected her own arrogance, the manifestation of her capability. Undiminished. Once again, Kikome reinforced her identity as Sokusai.

*************

Saitou slipped into her room at well past midnight. The work at the office had taken longer than expected, and trying to quell the uneasiness in the streets after Shishio's men's attack had been exhausting.

Sokusai stood by the door, her sword at his neck the moment he set his foot in the room.

"Who let you in?" she demanded.

"No one, I came through a side door."

She let out an exasperated sign and sheathed her sword. "I told them not to let whoever they met into my room."

The kimono she had worn earlier in the day was strewn across the ground messily. She had obviously cast it aside with disdain and loathing. She was dressed in white robes, typical for sleeping. Saitou glanced at her futon. Like the kimono, her blankets were disorganized and ruffled.

"What do you want here?" she asked.

"Just checking up on you."

"I'm not a child, Saitou. You don't need to babysit me."

"Don't cast aside my good intentions. But now that I'm here, can I stay?" he said half-jokingly.

She looked at him with an inscrutable expression.

"Sure."

Saitou returned the stare with surprise.

"Repeat that again?"

"I said it was okay if you wanted to stay."

"…Are you sleep-talking?"

"Didn't you say I had insomnia? I'm very much awake now, thanks to you. I decided that I'd give your theory a try." She let out a breath. "I'm exhausted, and if this keeps up, I'll collapse tomorrow. So we'll give your theory a spin."

She pointed her sheathed katana at his face.

"You are not allowed to touch me in any particular manner of affection," she warned. "If you do, I swear I'll kill you."

Empty words, but Saitou meant to oblige regardless.

"You can go take a shower." She gestured to a room connecting to hers. "I'll get your robes from a maid."

"They'll probably get the wrong impression."

"I don't care. I'm going to be out of here tomorrow anyway."

"Where are you sleeping then?" He decided not to guess his place.

"Probably at Shishou's. I should get back to him as soon as I can. He's such a worrywart."

Saitou went into the washroom and took his bath quickly, conscious of the late hour and the need to sleep in order to gather energy for the next day. It was more important for Sokusai to be able to sleep rather than himself. He could deal without it.

She had place the black sleeping robes by the door. He dressed himself and slid the doors open. Sokusai was already snuggled in the futon. She looked up at him when he came in.

"Hurry up," she complained, scooting over.

"I honestly can't believe you're willingly let me do this," he said, sliding in.

"Once in a lifetime opportunity, Saitou. No funny business."

"Yes, my lady."

He draped an arm around her shoulder.

"I said not to display any sign of affection, Saitou!" she warned, attempting to move away.

"Just live with it, Kikome. It's how we slept last time; maybe it contributes to your sleep."

She unwillingly relented, and neither of them spoke. Within a few minutes, her breathing had entered a regular pattern. She was asleep.

Saitou grinned and wrapped her closer to him. So much for resisting. His confidence rose and fell almost instantly after when he thought of her seeing Shinomori Aoshi the next day. There was a sense of foreboding creeping onto him. Tomorrow was doomsday.


	27. Judgment

**Chapter 25: Judgment**

Kikome woke suddenly, blinking water out of her eyes.

"Finally awake?" Saitou's feet asked in a silky voice. A plastic bowl was in his hand, some water dripping out of it.

She rolled over and looked up in his face, not quite comprehending why he was there and where she was.

"Oh," she said, finally understanding. "I let you stay here."

"Yeah, you did," he said. "Were you about to start yelling?"

"Yeah." She sat up and ran her fingers through her hair. "What time is it?"

"Eight-thirty. We better get going."

She yawned and nodded, getting up and making her way to the bathroom.

"Wait a few minutes."

Kikome grabbed the clothes she had washed the day before and slipped behind the doors. She changed and hastily scrubbed her face with a towel, brushing aside a few strands of wet hair. What a pleasant way to wake up.

She tied up her hair in her typical high ponytail and double-checked the bandages around her chest. These clothes were so much easier to move in. She looked in the mirror again and noticed the subtle differences that one night of good sleep had brought her. Her skin was a healthier pale color, and there were no longer shadows under her eyes, nor any traces of the exhaustion she had felt before. It had been a deep, dreamless night.

A rustle of annoyance passed through her. Even though she was the one who asked Saitou to stay, Kikome couldn't help but be perturbed by the results. Maybe it was just that she needed to sleep with _someone_. But that wasn't necessarily a good result either.

She slid the doors open and slipped into her sandals. Saitou passed her the katana that she had left in the corner the day before.

"You want to get breakfast?" he asked.

"No, I'll be fine."

They walked briskly out of the hotel and to the Aoiya to pick up Kenshin and Sano. The two of them were already waiting in the entrance.

"Good morning," Kenshin said amiably.

Sano raised an eyebrow at the two of them.

"You guys always stick together like that?" he questioned, more than slightly interested.

"We were at the same inn," Kikome said quickly before Saitou could make any inappropriate innuendos. He rolled his eyes.

The four of them boarded another carriage and arrived at Mount Hiei within due time. As they were climbing through the brambles and trees, Kikome remembered something.

"Oops," she said.

"What is it?" Kenshin asked.

"The Juppongatana are going to attack the Aoiya. I forgot to tell you that."

Kenshin whirled around. "What?!"

"I met Soujirou-san in the city yesterday. He mentioned it to me." Kikome shrugged. "It's not that big of a deal."

Kenshin looked at her with a face crossed between anxiety and anger.

"How is it not a big deal?" he demanded. "The Aoiya doesn't stand a chance against the Jupponganta!"

"Have some faith in your own people," she snapped. "What happens to them doesn't matter to me. Besides, they're leaving the top three of the Juppongatana to us, which is a big enough problem. Had all of them gone to the Aoiya, they'd die for sure."

Kenshin opened his mouth to retort, but Saitou interrupted.

"Only the top three? There's four of us."

"Aoshi's mine."

"No," Kenshin said shortly.

"Shut it," Kikome snarled. "I don't give a damn for your promise to him or to the Makimachi girl. This is between me and him."

"Stop it," Saitou said, annoyed when Kenshin began to snap back. "Even though we're not going to have to deal with teamwork, having such a disheartening atmosphere will prove problematic. Battousai, just calm down. There's still the police."

Not that they were much help, Kikome added silently.

Shishio's headquarters soon came into view.

Sano whistled. "This is huge. How come the government never noticed?"

A lone figure stood at the entrance.

"Welcome," she said. "We've been expecting you. Inside, the depths become a labyrinth. So that you will not lose your way, I, the unworthy Komagata Yumi, shall be your guide."

"Using a woman to make us careless," Sano muttered. "This guy's full of tricks. Be careful."

"Only you'd fall for such a weak trap," Saitou replied.

"Shishio's not that desperate," Kenshin added.

"I don't think he'd send a woman to entice me," Kikome said lightly.

Sano pulled a face at them, annoyed at their demeaning reactions.

They entered the depths of the castle, turning right and left to avoid traps and pitfalls.

"This is pretty elaborate," Kikome commented, eyeing the mounds of skeletons under the bridge.

The group arrived at a pair of tall wooden doors. Yumi began to push them open, then turned around.

"I forgot to tell you, I have a message from Shishio-sama. This will be a three-on-three fight, man-to-man. Even though Nato-san will be fighting Shinomori Aoshi, none of you will be allowed to interfere."

She opened the doors, and they walked into an open room. Kikome glanced around, ignoring the towering Buddhist statue but instead looking at the opponent.

"A monk?" Saitou said.

"A fallen one." Sano spit out the fish bone he was chewing. "There's something I want to ask this guy. This one's mine."

"How do they know each other?" Kikome asked as Sano walked down the stairs.

"He's the one who taught Sano how to use the Futae no Kiwami," Kenshin replied.

"Bless you."

"It's the move that Sano used to deflect the Gatling gun in the Purgatory incident."

Kikome leaned lazily on the rails and smiled.

"Well this should be interesting."

*************

The group left the first room and hurried down to the hallway, Sano running with Yumi under his arm.

"Why are we hurrying?" Kikome complained.

"Because of _somebody_, the Aoiya is in danger," Kenshin said sourly.

She raised an eyebrow. "Surely, Battousai, you had an inkling that that would happen?"

"I did," he conceded. "I asked Shishou to protect them, but who knows if he'll really go."

She began to reassure that Shishou would surely go, but decided against it. He would probably oversleep.

There was a growing worry in her mind about her legs. They had pained more the day before, but they still ached slightly, and she felt that running, even normally, would strain them. She refused to voice her worry.

The second room came into sight. Kenshin kicked the door open, revealing a dark room with eyes plastered on the walls and the floor.

A blindfolded man crouched in the middle of the floor, a spear laid over his lap.

"What outrageous get-up," Kikome said, not bothering to lower her voice.

"Hm," he said. "Is that the voice of the infamous Sokusai?"

The man stood up. "I'm Usui. Hm…four of you, eh? Anji couldn't take down one?

"I don't care about your big words," Kenshin growled. "Are you getting out of the way or—"

Saitou's fist connected with Kenshin's face.

"I'm glad that you're angry, but don't rush it, you fool. Haste will cause unnecessary strain, which will cut your strength in half. This one's mine. You guys go ahead."

"Saitou—"

"Just go."

"…Sorry about this." Kenshin ran from the room, followed closely by Sano who had one again slung an obnoxious Yumi under his arm.

"You too," Saitou said to Kikome.

"I can afford to take a little time and watch your match," she said confidently. "No rush here."

He scoffed. "You're that scared to see Shinomori Aoshi."

She frowned. "You know me too well."

"Perhaps not. I thought you were going to deny it," Saitou smirked. "So why don't you run along and confront him? Battousai might end up taking your prey."

Her frown deepened as Kikome pondered. She didn't feel like Saitou would die against this Usui man, but it would leave a bad taste in her mouth if he was left alone and injured.

"Just go, Sokusai."

She noticed that he had not said her name, and she knew why. Usui was observing their conversation quietly and was most likely interested in their relationship. Staying any longer would disturb Saitou's concentration.

She reached into her pocket and threw the bandages and poultice she had brought with her. Saitou caught them in one hand.

"They're probably not as useful as the one that Takani Megumi made for Kenshin, but they're decent," she said as she walked to the exit. "Don't be brash, Saitou."

He pocketed the medicine and waved her away.

"You too."

Kikome exited the room at a frightening speed, her legs carrying her with Shinsoku. It would suffice to get her to Aoshi.

She skidded to a stop in front of a room along the side of the hallway. Kikome grabbed Kenshin from behind and yanked him back, throwing him at Sano.

"Tsk." Kenshin scowled at her. "What about Saitou?"

"He's a big boy, he can take care of himself," she answered. "He was the one who urged me to come anyway."

She scrutinized the towering man in front of her. His black eyes gleamed in the darkness as he stood up and approached Kikome.

Still so beautiful.

"Hello, Aoshi," she said with a smile.

"Sokusai." Aoshi caressed her cheek lightly. His fingers were icy cold. "You're as lovely as always. Please move aside. The one I want is Battousai."

"You touch my cheek like this every time we see each other," she commented, clasping his hand. "Is there some meaning? Or do you think you can take advantage of my womanly nostalgia and make me…what was the word you used…useless?"

She tightened her grip around his wrist, forcing him to retract his hand.

"I'm afraid I'm your opponent today," Kikome said. She slipped her blade out of its sheath, grabbing the hilt of the sword in one hand and the sheath in the other.

"You've always liked fighting with both the sheath and the sword," Aoshi commented, his voice as smooth as an ice cube. "Just to parry my dual kodachi? It's certainly not a common technique seen among swordsmen."

"You know, Aoshi, now that I think about it, I don't think I ever fought full strength against you. You've never seen my techniques. So please don't act like you have." She smiled again. "We were never quite so close."

*************

Aoshi had been slightly surprised to see her there. But then again, had he expected otherwise?

Still so beautiful.

Her crimson lips were constantly parted in a smile dripping with congeniality and favor. She had learned to mask emotions well. He analyzed her eyes. Even there, he could no longer spot the emotions she felt. Aoshi felt as if their connection had been severed.

*************

"Here I come," Kikome said.

Instantaneously, she appeared in front of him, aiming her sheath towards his chin. He blocked it, unsurprisingly. His eyes reflected the shock at her speed.

Aoshi rammed his second kodachi in her direction, forcing her to back off a few steps. His offense was unrelenting; Kikome found herself cornered by a bookshelf and the wall.

"You're a bit too confident, Sokusai," he said. He closed in for the kill.

She pushed up from the ground, appearing above him. With a speed that only the tiniest bit of Shukuchi could bring, she propelled herself upwards, able to mobilize herself on not only horizontal surfaces but vertical as well. She leaped off of a bookshelf and whirled down towards Aoshi.

_Ryu Tsui Sen!_

Aoshi parried it barely, the force of her blow this time forcing him to step back. Kikome landed lightly and stood still. The two of them were perfectly out of each others' ranges. Aoshi finally spoke.

"That move…was one of Battousai's."

"Ryu Tsui Sen. One of my favorite moves from Hiten Mitsurugi."

"…So you…"

She nodded. "I am the first apprentice of the thirteenth Hiko Seijuuro, master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu. I am technically Battousai's sempai."

Aoshi stared at her blankly, then scoffed. "And to believe that we spent half a year together and I never knew."

"I guess we just never had the time to sit down and actually talk about ourselves."

Her lips contorted into something her mind deemed a smile.

*************

He had no idea.

There was truth in her words when she said that he never knew her. But then, where else could that god-speed have come from? That impeccable ability?

This last smile.

It was embedded with sadness.

The emotions shone in her eyes again. Regret. Humility. Sorrow.

Aoshi could win this fight.

*************

"I'm amazed," he said, chuckling slightly, eyes closed.

"At what?"

"At you. This entire time, I thought I knew you so well. It was easier to manipulate you that way."

Her smile disappeared instantly.

"So it's just surprising, seeing you here now and so ready to fight me," he continued. He looked up at her, eyes glowing. "But really…you're not as different as I imagined when you first stepped in this room."

"What do you mean?" she asked warily.

"What I mean is, your merciful nature has remained the same even now. Back in the mountains, you could have killed me. Many times in our last exchange, you, even with your amazing speed, did not aim at me with a murderous intent."

Aoshi scoffed.

"Sokusai, I am going to fight you without restraint. So be prepared to die."

He flipped his kodachi in the palm of his hand.

"Kaiten Kenbu Rokuren. I know this stance well," she said calmly.

"Of course. But be aware, my strength is completely different from before."

"That's all right," she said in the same serene tone. "Because…" She hooked her sheath on her belt and brought her sword up to her waist. "…I wasn't going all out with speed either."

*************

The fight was dragging out. Quick movements, much evasion.

"Hey, Kenshin."

"What, Sano?"

"This guy's pretty strong."

"So is Kikome."

"Yeah, she is. But something happened between them, right?"

"Yeah. She told me they were lovers for a while back…Why?"

"Because she's not fighting all out."

The group of them watched the two exchange blows fiercely. It was clear who had the upper hand. Even with Kikome's speed, she was being hampered by the terrain of the bookshelves, and Aoshi's offense was relentless.

"I mean, even after she said she wasn't going all out with her speed, I don't feel like she got any faster. She's being pressured. Her eyes show hesitation."

Kenshin shifted uneasily on his feet and didn't answer.

Aoshi once again cornered her against the wall. _It'll be fine_, Kenshin thought. _She used Shukuchi to get out of the same situation before._

Kikome lost her footing. No, she didn't lose it. It seemed as if her legs had failed her on the spot, and she dropped like a deadweight.

Aoshi's foot connected with her stomach, flinging her into bookshelves across the room. The force caused them to fall like domino pieces.

"Kikome!" Sano leaned forward in worry.

Kenshin extended an arm, blocking him off. "Wait."

*************

It felt like her insides had exploded in pain. The bookshelf toppled over under her, and she collapsed on the piles agonizingly.

"Agh," she coughed as she sat up, one hand clutching her stomach and the other over her mouth. Incarnadine liquid poured out from inside her. She gagged, coughing even more, her stomach screaming in protest. She refused to let any of the pain show on her face.

She looked at the blood in her hand with some interest.

"Hah…" she breathed. Inhale. Exhale. It hurt.

"Did you expect otherwise?" Aoshi inquired. "I told you I would go all out. Are you? I don't feel any killing intent from you still."

She glared at him, still panting slightly. Katana. Where was it? She glanced around. It was behind Aoshi. Damn. She must have let go of it when she collided.

Kikome looked up the point of Aoshi's kodachi.

"You won't be able to get it," he said, noticing her eye the katana.

"Yeah," she agreed, eyes swiveling to meet his.

There was a moment of interminable silence and stillness.

"You're not even going to try to get it?" Aoshi asked.

"You'd…just kick me aside again…wouldn't you?"

"…So be it." Aoshi raised his kodachi up. "Farewell."

She didn't know what she was doing. She wasn't frozen from fear, nor from regret. Her body simply refused to cooperate. What did she need? A stimulus. A reason to live. Her mind whirred.

"What are you doing?!" a female voice yelled from somewhere in the room. "You can't just sit there! You have the ability to fight! You're lucky, you're _gifted_ enough to be able to fight, so you can't just let some man try to kill you! Stand up!"

The words hit Kikome like a typhoon, one after another, incessantly. They had all processed in her mind. She could see Aoshi's blade come down, knew that he was serious. If he could fight without restraints, why couldn't she? If he could cast aside their love, if he had even been in love, then she could as well.

Independent of him.

She caught the blade between her index and middle fingers, holding it firmly while catching his second kodachi in her other hand.

Slowly and steadily, her weakened legs regained their strength.

_Please_, she begged them, _stay with me. Don't let me fall_.

She regained her balance, looked at Aoshi for a split second, and dove for her sword. It clanged by her ear, and with unfound strength, she pushed him aside.

"Hah," she gasped for air. The pain was now above her stomach. It must have been one of her ribs…fractured, or broken. Excruciating.

"It…looks like I can't drag this out too long," she said weakly. "This is pathetic. I better…finish this."

Sokusai lifted her blade slowly in front of her, reaffirming her stance.

"Hey, Aoshi. I have a question for you."

"What is it?"

"During those months in the mountains…did you ever care for me?"

The words sounded stupid coming out of her mouth.

"…No."

Her grip around the hilt of her blade tightened.

"Okay. Thanks."

She charged.


	28. Pride

**Chapter 26: Pride**

She was an idiot.

Yumi stood silently on the second floor, telegraphing Shishio-sama the details of the fight. How could she possibly have encouraged her? Yumi ground her teeth together. It would have been better just to leave her alone. Let them kill each other. It would save Shishio-sama the time and energy to fight them all.

She had found herself yelling before she could stop herself.

Why?

But she couldn't just _stand_ there. Unbelievable jealousy roared inside of her. Here was a woman capable of fighting, of being useful in the battlefield. And not only could she fight, she was strong. An equal of the men.

Yumi couldn't just let her sit there and be killed by a man who had cast her aside.

There was Sokusai's pride to consider. Her strength.

Shishio-sama had told her about Sokusai before.

*************

"Yumi, get me another jar of sake." Shishio-sama sat lazily on a couch and eyed the Juppongatana.

Yumi obliged and went to the kitchen, feeling resentful. How she wished she could follow Shishio-sama's orders for the battle ahead. She returned with another jar of sake while Shishio-sama was lecturing.

"The remaining five of you will go to the Aoiya and bring me the heads of those there."

"I have a question, Shishio-sama," Kamatari said.

"Go on."

"Why five of us? Aren't four people coming here?"

"Ah, yes. I forgot to explain that."

He took the cup from Yumi and drank. "As most of you know, Chou is currently imprisoned, and Houji is unable to fight. There are four people coming here: Himura Battousai, Saitou Hajime, Sagara Sanosuke, and…" He gave an enigmatic smile, "Nato Sokusai."

"I am unaware of Nato Sokusai's motives," he continued. "I _want_ to say that she is coming here to fight Shinomori Aoshi, but I can't be sure."

Kamatari shot him a quizzical look. "Shinomori Aoshi? What relation do they have?"

Soujirou piped up. "It seems like they shared a special relationship more than half a year ago. Then he betrayed her, which made Nato-san furious, and now she's out to get him."

"That pretty much sums it up, Sou."

Kamatari scoffed. "She doesn't sound so strong. Why don't we just go ahead and kill her to be done with it? She'll just get in the way."

"You're too cocky, Kamatari-san," Soujirou said amiably. "Nato-san could destroy you."

Kamatari glared at him. "Boy, what are you saying? She's still a woman. She can't possibly stronger than me."

"Women have the capability to be strong," Yumi said softly.

She knew Kamatari's unvoiced thoughts, that she was useless except in bed for Shishio-sama.

"Of course," Shishio-sama said. "Easily proven in the example of Sokusai. I'm hoping she'll be too distracted with Shinomori to fight us; if she was, it'd prove to be problematic."

"It doesn't matter, Shishio-sama. She's just a freak of nature,' Kamatari said with a roll of his eyes. "They come once and a million years, and just buckle down under pressure in the end."

Freak of nature. Was that what a strong woman was?

*************

Seeing Sokusai get back on her feet brought unexpected relief. Yumi watched as the fight continued, her stomach lurching unpleasantly whenever she saw Sokusai get injured. The kick from before had definitely slowed her down. Maybe a rib had fractured?

_Gokou Juuji_. The kodachi caught Sokusai around the neck, swiping inward like scissors. She moved barely in time to avoid her jugular being cut, but the crimson color splattered across her face regardless. She retaliated by bashing the hilt of her sword across his head. The two retreated a few steps, blood seeping out of Aoshi's forehead.

"Gah." Sokusai backed off a few more steps. "Ow…that was close."

She brought her free hand up to her neck, attempting to stop one side from dripping. She licked the blood, smearing it over her chin.

"Sokusai, this is useless," Aoshi said. "Even now, I still can feel that hesitation that draws you back. You cannot possibly defeat me."

"…Hah," she laughed weakly. "No…I'm positive I can. Capability wise…at least." She twirled the blade over in her hand, breathing harshly.

"But you're right about the hesitation…I honestly don't know what's wrong with me…I thought that I could come here with the intention to kill you." She closed her ebony eyes. "…I guess I was wrong."

There was something else in Aoshi's eyes. Unwillingness?

"What are you saying?" he demanded. "So you're just going to let me kill you?"

"What's that in your voice now?" Her breathing was stabilizing. There was a growing confidence in her tone. "Unwillingness? What did you expect?"

"I expected you to be able to match up to me," he answered coolly.

"I can," she said calmly. "No. I'm better than you. I know this for sure."

Again and again, the sword twirled over her arm, creating a rippling image.

"Better than me," he scoffed. "You jest."

"No." The whirling was getting faster. "Even in the assault just now, I found multiple openings when I could have lopped your hands off in a moment."

Aoshi's eyes narrowed. "Then why didn't you?"

"Because I remembered. Because I treasured our memories." Her sword was becoming a blur, her unwavering eyes concentrated on her hand. "…Did you?"

"No."

She flipped her sword in the air and caught it skillfully in her hand, sheathing it in one fluid movement.

"How long are you going to lie to yourself, Aoshi?"

His eyes hardened. "It's you who is clinging to your own lies. My way is clear. I will kill you here. Then I will kill Battousai, and take the title of the strongest."

"And then what?!" she demanded fiercely.

"What?"

"I asked what you were going to do after that! Kill yourself? Die? Do you have no sense of self-preservation?!"

"That's—"

"When are you going to stop clinging to the lies of vengeance?!" she said, voice growing in volume.

"You wouldn't understand," he said coldly.

"Hell, yeah, I understand!" she shouted. "I've been there! I know how it is, living for no sole purpose than to find someone and kill them, to avenge someone. But your vengeance is unreasonable! Kenshin didn't do anything, your own subordinates died to protect you, and here you are being a complete_ idiot_ trying to bring some gift to their graves. You're a fool, Shinomori Aoshi!"

He closed his gloved hand around her throat, slamming her against the wall.

"I'm the fool?" he repeated, tone lined with latent fury. "Who holds your life in his hands? Who cannot possibly kill me? I may be the fool, but I am the stronger, Nato Sokusai."

"Well damn you then." Her sword slashed diagonally across his chest. The red blood flowed like a fountain, and he backed off, arm clutching the wound. The crimson color spread through the sleeve of his white cloak.

"Wake up, Aoshi!" she shouted. "Stop being the avenger!"

Yumi couldn't see Aoshi's face, but she noticed the grip on his kodachi tighten.

"And if I did? Then what? What am I supposed to do after that?" he insisted.

"I don't know," Sokusai said harshly, lowering her voice a bit. "All I know is that if you continue being this way, you'll lose yourself. Your soul, the wills of your subordinates…and the family back in the Aoiya."

Aoshi stiffened. "So you know about them?"

She nodded slowly. "That…Makimachi girl is probably still waiting for you."

"Sokusai, that's—"

She cut him off. "I don't care about that. It's just you and me now. Will you stop?"

He was gripping the hilts of his blades so tightly that blood was dripping out of his palms.

"No," he said finally.

Sokusai's eyes softened, her anger disappearing, and for the first time since Yumi had seen her, she could understand the reason why the others had claimed her to be one of the most beautiful people they had ever seen. The epitome of a woman, the endless drive, the endless regret of harboring an unrequited love for man. And here, in this woman, the final emotion was completed: the endless determination to uphold her pride over her love.

"I see," she said. She shifted on her feet, preparing herself in a stance.

"You really won't?"

Aoshi shook his head briefly.

"All right," she consented. Her eyes closed as a heavy calmness settled in the atmosphere.

She disappeared.

No one saw her move.

Aoshi stood still, bewilderment expressed in his features.

They waited a second.

The ephemeral figure materialized behind him, the tip of her sword trailing a crimson shade.

Another second.

It was like a blood red geyser had just exploded. The incarnadine color sprayed all across the walls, the shelves, the floor. Aoshi fell to his knees, a thin trickle of red running down his chin. He coughed, and collapsed, face up. His eyes echoed his confusion and shock in the last moments of his life.

Nobody moved.

"I guess it's game over now," she said.

The red stained the room, the rivers of blood pooled over the floor. Sokusai looked best in crimson.

*************

"You killed him," Kenshin said, scarcely whispering.

Kikome didn't answer instantly. She stared at the unmoving figure in front of her; the cacophony of emotions in her eyes had disappeared.

"Kikome, you weren't supposed to—"

"Stop." A single command from the deadliest voice of the loveliest woman.

They could hardly hear the sound of anyone breathing.

Aoshi stirred feebly.

"He's alive," Kikome said, walking over to him. The blood from her wounds oozed down her neck, drenching her clothes. There was a drudgery in her step, a deep contemplation.

She arrived before him, staring into his elegant face. His eyes snapped open and gazed into her coal-dark orbs.

The eyes were emerald.

Kikome let out a sigh.

"That's it for me then," she said, leaning against a wall and sitting down. Her nimble fingers checked her wounds. The pain in her stomach and ribs had dulled; what she was worried about the most was her neck. She trailed her fingers along the cuts. Blood flood freely from them still.

Kikome reached into her pocket and withdrew a second bundle of bandages. She ripped a part off and wrapped it around her neck, making sure not to tie it so tight that she would asphyxiate.

Kenshin and Sano stared uncertainly at her.

"What?" she said, annoyed.

"That was…anticlimactic," Sano said. "I thought for sure you were going to kill him after he opened his eyes."

"I'm not that petty." Kikome sat still, resting her head on her knees.

Aoshi laid on the floor, not stirring to minimize the amount of blood loss.

There was an awkward silence.

"Kenshin, you guys go ahead if you're so worried about the Aoiya. I'm going to rest here for a while."

"Sure," Kenshin said easily. "Let's go, Sano."

Sano ran upstairs, disappearing behind the shelves. There was a loud _bang_ as a telegraph machine clattered onto the floor.

"There," he said, "now you can't go telling everyone how we fight."

Kikome heard Yumi hiss as Sano guided her down the stairs.

"Hey, Komagata-san," Kikome called out as they were about to leave.

Yumi turned around. "What?"

Kikome gave a wave. "Thanks."

Yumi grimaced. "I didn't mean to help. It just…happened."

"Well, regardless. Thanks."

Yumi returned her gratitude with a curt nod; Sano whisked her off her feet and carried her out of the room.

Kikome slumped against the wall as the awkwardness returned.

*************

A moment's pause as Aoshi laid there to gather his thoughts and to address the situation. It was amazing how just a minute ago, his mind seemed so clouded and his aim for revenge seemed so resolute. Destroyed in two seconds.

He gave a slight scoff. So much for the big words.

This woman did really defeat him easily. But still…

"Why didn't you kill me, Sokusai?" Aoshi asked, sitting up gingerly to face her.

His head was miraculously clear; as his wounds bled, he could feel the poison of revenge be extracted from his veins.

"I already told you that I can't."

"…I suppose I should say thanks."

"I don't need it."

Aoshi bit his lip for a moment, debating what he should say next. The brusque attitude was expected of her, but all the same, he wanted to see her open up a bit more.

"Kikome—"

Her head snapped up and her eyes flared.

"You have no right to call me by my name," she said coolly.

Aoshi was taken back. "…I see. Forgive me for asking, but doesn't Saitou Hajime—"

"Saitou has nothing to do with this," she said brutally. "What he calls me is none of your business. He's a hell lot more reliant than you are."

Aoshi gave a half-hearted laugh. "I suppose so. Then…well, I don't know what to say."

"I don't either," she said.

The softness in her eyes from before she attacked him was gone. A stubborn, prideful woman stood in her place, distrustful of him.

"Sokusai, I…apologize."

"If your feelings could have been cleared in so short a time, I really wish you had given some thought to your vengeful streak. Your apologies can't amount to the trouble you've given me."

"The pain, you mean?"

Her dark eyes misted over. "That, too."

"Sokusai…" he hesitated. "I really…did feel some affection for you."

Her expression was inscrutable.

"Do not expect me to forgive you so easily." She was gripping her legs tightly, as if testing their strength. "Do not expect us to be able to continue our relationship from where we left off."

"…Of course." His heart sunk. Had he expected more?

"But…it's not beyond repair." She stood up slowly, balancing herself gingerly. Sokusai walked over to him and kneeled by him. "We could…attempt to start over."

Aoshi smirked. "You'd give me a second chance?"

"Perhaps. If you do it right this time."

She placed a roll of bandages and a bottle of medicine in his hand.

"But I will not guarantee falling for you again."

Aoshi looked at her, surprised. Wasn't giving him a second chance, albeit her strange requirements, basically giving him a 'yes' to continue their relationship?

"Right now, our connection is not of lovers, but instead of acquaintances. For our relationship to be heightened to the one we had in the mountains…would take along time of reparation."

"Why?" he asked abruptly.

Her coal eyes narrowed. "You expected otherwise?"

"Frankly…yes."

"Arrogance is a sin."

She walked away from him. "I have high standards. I don't fall for men easily. A betrayal is something I cannot, no, will not forgive for a long time."

Sokusai left without a backwards glance. Her red figure and graceful lilt personified the majesty with which she walked, a pride exemplified in the most beautiful woman Aoshi had ever seen. Pride in crimson.


	29. Payment and Betrayal

**Chapter 27: Payment and Betrayal**

Aoshi stood up, trying to minimize the amount of movement it required. Even such a simple task seemed arduous.

He had examined his wounds as he was nursing them. She certainly had held back at the last moment. The attack he was hit with was one typical of all sword styles, targeting all nine vital points in one instant. She had restrained herself superbly, only hitting the ones above his torso. The damage had been mitigated to the exact point where he would collapse but not lose consciousness.

Really, an impressive feat.

A shadow blocked the light coming in from the hall. Aoshi looked up and recognized the tall figure.

"Well, well, looks like you got your ass kicked," he smirked.

"Saitou…Hajime."

"Hm. I thought you knew me by Fujita Goro."

"I heard from a man named Seta."

"Oh, well that explains something, since you've been here for so long."

"The others left already; you're a bit late."

His smirk widened. "Of course. Everything's going as I planned."

Saitou looked at the clock ticking on the wall.

"How long has it been since Sokusai left?"

"…Don't you call her by her name?"

"Ah, pardon me. I refrained from doing so in order not to arouse any tension."

Aoshi narrowed his eyes. "Meaning?"

"The issue of her name must cause some pressure on you, no? After all, someone like you who planned to betray her from the beginning would never address her by anything but her hitokiri title."

"…She told you all this?"

"Hah, definitely not. I can read people well."

Saitou lit a cigarette. "Thanks to you, Shishio and his men have diverted their attention from me to Battousai's party. It'll be easier for me to move in the shadows this way."

He threw a piece of paper at Aoshi. Aoshi caught it and unfolded it, surprised.

"This…is a map of the interior headquarters."

"While the Oniwabanshuu's information network is formidable, the government's network is the best in the country, which is one of the reasons I joined forces with it," Saitou explained. "If you're this far, that map should be enough to get you to Shishio."

Saitou prepared to leave.

"You're not going to ask?" Aoshi inquired.

"About what?"

"Sokusai."

Saitou scoffed. "Seeing you barely alive is enough to deduce that she held back at the last minute. Women," he added in disdain. "Nevertheless, it's a relief. Had she really killed you, who knows what I'd have to deal with afterwards."

"Are you the reason why she can't guarantee 'falling for' me again, as she put it?"

Saitou turned around, interested. "She said that?"

"Rather scathingly."

Saitou laughed. "She's too proud. But in answering your question, I'd best say perhaps."

Aoshi was skeptical. "I'd say 'perhaps' is an understatement."

"And I'd say you're overestimating me," Saitou said darkly. "Both of us know that we're dealing with an extremely complicated and arrogant woman. Not to say that she has no right to be arrogant, but being so prideful makes her one of the hardest people for me to read. Leaving you alive means that she harbors some affection for you. Saying that to you means that it's not as much as before. All in all, it's very hard to say."

Aoshi wanted to stop thinking about her. Her complex nature exhausted him, not to mention that his pride had taken a blow after the fight. Nevertheless, he continued to ask Saitou questions.

"How close are you two?"

"Let's just say I believe I have more rights to her than you do."

"Really?" Aoshi said, cynical. As much as Saitou had been complaining about Sokusai's pride, Saitou's own egotism was equally aggravating.

"I understand her more than you do," Saitou said simply. "I've known her since the Bakamatsu days, and I know how to address situations when she's suffering through her rather spontaneous mood swings."

"Mood swings? I wasn't aware she lost her composure easily."

"Probably because you caused them," Saitou said icily. "Your existence has caused me no little trouble with her. I promised to lay off of her until we finish the fight today. I wanted to let her clear her thoughts, to let her finish what she came to Kyoto for."

"And you thought after today she'd return to your side?" Aoshi said doubtfully.

"I'd say the chances are fifty-fifty, give or take," Saitou replied. "I might be at the advantage…did you wound her today?"

"What?"

"I mean did you attack her all out today?" Saitou repeated impatiently.

"…Yes."

"Well then, I'm probably at the advantage." He blew out a puff of smoke. "You're really a cold-hearted one. No reservations at all, eh?"

Saitou began to leave again. "But just letting you know…"

Aoshi strained to hear, he was speaking so quietly.

"If you hurt her again, I swear I'll kill you."

Aoshi didn't need to hear the last sentence. Saitou's murderous intent was enough.

*************

Slowly, slowly, lightly. No pressure. No haste.

Her legs hurt like hell.

It took her much longer than necessary to arrive at the next room. She could sense no one inside. Kenshin must have finished the fight already.

Kikome pushed open the doors.

The room was a mess. Evidence of Soujirou's amazing Shukuchi could been seen all around the floor, the walls, even the ceiling. Really, he had mastered horizontal and vertical speed.

She walked in and glanced around uneasily.

"Boo."

Kikome leaped forward in surprise, her hand on her hilt. Soujirou, beat-up and weary, smiled at her nonetheless.

"Soujirou-san," she said in relief, "you're all right."

"Surprisingly enough."

He followed her gaze to the doors leading once again into the narrow hallway beyond.

"Don't worry," he said. "Your companions left only a little earlier. Yumi-san left through a shortcut, which you can take later. I'd like to talk to you for a moment."

Kikome nodded. "Yes, that's probably appropriate."

He eyed her legs, aware of the cautious way she was standing.

"You mastered Shukuchi?" he asked.

"Hah, how did you know?"

"Because of your stance. The pain in your legs will be around for a while after you first master it. We should probably sit down so we don't strain them any further."

They sat side by side in an adjacent room.

"May I lay down on your lap?" he asked. "I'm feeling sort of nauseous."

Without hearing a word of assent, Soujirou slid down and laid his head on her lap.

Kikome patted Soujirou gently. "You look bad."

He laughed nervously. "Yeah, it was an intense fight."

She noticed the long scar across his chest.

"Ah. He hit you with _Amakakeru Ryuu no Hirameki_."

"Yeah."

"Painful?" she asked almost jokingly.

"Hurts like hell."

There was a slight pause as Soujirou collected his thoughts to speak.

"Nato-san…" he said slowly, "I'm going to leave here."

She nodded in agreement. "That'd be best. No need for you to get caught up in the fight afterwards."

"I am going to look for my own answer…maybe Shishio-san's philosophy will become my own way of thinking…maybe Himura-san's will…or maybe I'll find one entirely by myself. So I will leave and go wander around like they did, to find my answer."

"Good," Kikome smiled. "Good for you."

"Nato-san. Thank you."

"I didn't do anything."

"You don't think so. But being around you really made me feel like I had a relative I could rely on. During my fight with Himura-san, I kept thinking about what you said…and I unconsciously held back. I was waiting around for you to come through."

He sighed. "I don't really know what to think anymore."

"It's okay. You're still Soujirou, aren't you? Innocent face, congenial, I don't think Shishio made your personality. As long as you have identity, you'll be fine. As long as you have pride, you'll survive."

"I suppose."

He stood up. "You should probably go soon, Nato-san. Saitou already passed through."

Kikome hadn't noticed. Another wave of apprehension filled her heart. She stood up behind Soujirou, who wasn't facing her.

"You should go…I'll be fine alone," he said almost anxiously. "I've been that way for so long anyway, I—"

Kikome hugged him gently from behind, holding him like a mother would her child.

"You can stop playing it tough," she said softly. She could feel Soujirou's tears dampen her sleeve.

"You don't have to rely on yourself so much," she continued sentimentally. If it weren't Soujirou, these embarassing words would never be coming out of her mouth. "I'm here. Your nakama. Your sister."

Soujirou reached up and gripped her hand, shaking slightly. Kikome let his silence carry on, knowing that it had been the first time in many years since he had let his emotions take control of him.

"Thanks," he whispered, breaking away.

She smiled sadly, knowing he was going to depart from her without really opening up. "Don't worry about it. You just take care of yourself."

He caught her by surprise and hugged her tightly, pulling away from her after a few seconds. After walking a few steps, he stopped and turned around.

He was smiling while tears ran down his cheeks.

"Thank you so much…Nee-san."

Kikome laughed slightly, eyes soft. "Thank you as well, Soujirou. Be careful. Come see me soon."

"Sayonara."

Kikome watched with a mixture of emotions as she saw the brother that Okita couldn't be separate from her to forge his own future. Okita had saved her from the darkness of being a hitokiri. She had repaid the favor. Soujirou was going to walk away from the darkness that would have engulfed her ten years earlier.

*************

Shishio surveyed the scene in front of him. The three men that had come so bravely to challenge his authority, dispensed of in less than a quarter of an hour. He hadn't had so much fun in years.

Now then, where was Sokusai? Yumi had said that she had stayed behind with Shinomori Aoshi. Was she not coming then?

Shishio's passing thought was proved wrong. Sokusai's slim profile appeared at the entrance to the roof.

"Sokusai," Shishio greeted mockingly. "You're finally here. Well? How is the scene? Does it fit to your liking?"

She didn't reply; her gaze shifted from one body to another. Her crimson lips mouthed "What the hell?"

She saw Saitou last. Shishio observed her reaction keenly, knowing that their relationship was a peculiar one. How would she respond, seeing one of the proudest men in Japan dead on the ground?

Sokusai merely stiffened, and returned her gaze to Shishio.

"You did this?" she asked softly.

Shishio sneered. "Who else?"

She was silent, shifting on her feet uneasily. Shishio immediately tensed. Rightly so. Their swords clanged together immediately afterward.

"Excellent, Sokusai!" Shishio said in glee. "That was Shukuchi just now, wasn't it? Perfect."

She snarled in return.

_Ryu Shou Sen!_ Shishio caught her blade one handed.

"Too bad, I've already seen that one," he said, eyes glinting. "Battousai and your techniques are the same, eh?"

She cut him off with a blow to his chin with her sheath. Shishio recoiled immediately for a counterattack, only to find her barely out of his reach. Sokusai was playing defensively. Attacking, then retreating immediately afterward to prevent against his counter.

Sokusai's beautiful stone eyes narrowed imperceptibly.

Shishio charged towards her, lighting his blade with his sheathe. _Homura dama!_

Her facial expression did not change upon seeing the flames, nor did she move from her spot. Shishio brought his sword down toward her chest, expecting her to finally dodge, as it was impossible to tell exactly where his blade was.

She stayed still, instead blocking the katana with her gloved hand. The lovely face winced as she felt the pain in her arm, but Shishio knew from the depth that he had not cut her. Only the flames had caught onto the sleeve of her right arm.

Shishio smirked. What could she do? Her sword was in the hand that was currently blocking him. He prepared for _Guren Kaina_; simply one blow of gunpowder, and she would be dead like Battousai.

As quick as lightning, Sokusai exchanged the blade to her left hand and brought it down across his chest. He leaped back, staggered. The cut was shallow, but deep enough to draw blood. Remarkable, nevertheless. She was the first to cause him to bleed.

"You're ambidextrous?" he said, impressed.

"What I am doesn't matter," she said in deadly calm. Sokusai altered her stance and transferred her sword back to her dominant hand, preparing for another onslaught.

"Sokusai, why do you fight me?"

She sheathed her blade. "I have no need to answer that question."

"Which death has affected you the most? Battousai's? Sagara Sanosuke's? No…is it Saitou Hajime's pathetic corpse that causes your _ki_ to soar with a rage I have not felt in ten years?"

She appeared in front of him, swiping with her katana. _Battoujutsu._ Shishio already knew this attack, and blocked it effortlessly. She did not retract this time, instead pressing on with a series of offensive attacks.

"Ha ha! That's it, Sokusai! Fight me! Be the avenger that disappeared in the shadows of the Bakamatsu ten years ago! Revive her! And fight!"

"If you have enough time to talk," she said frigidly, "why don't you concentrate a bit more?"

_Hiten Mitsuruugi Ryuu, Ryu Kan Sen!_

Her blade caught him in the back of the neck, slicing almost to the spinal cord. Shishio leapt out of her range, no longer grinning.

Sokusai landed gracefully, watching him as he checked his wound cautiously.

"You're really the extraordinary one," he admitted. "You've been able to hit me thrice. The others couldn't land a hit at all."

"The others," Sokusai retorted, "were badly injured."

"Perhaps. But you too are not unscathed from your battle with Shinomori Aoshi. Ah," Shishio said, noticing another figure approach from the entrance that Saitou had made, "looks like another whipped dog is here."

Sokusai whirled around, and Shishio grasped his chance. This woman worried him, now that Battousai was dead on the ground, and Shishio didn't mind playing dirty to win.

He seized her from behind, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, the other holding his blade to her throat. Droplets of blood appeared in a thin line.

"Never show your back to your enemy," he crooned maliciously.

"You bastard," she hissed, "you'd do something as low as to fight me from behind?"

"An opening is an opening, Sokusai dear. Now then," Shishio addressed Aoshi, "Shinomori Aoshi, I'd advise you not to move from there."

Honorable people were so easy to manipulate. Shishio could easily bend Aoshi's actions to his will as long as Sokusai was in his hands.

"So what are you doing here?" Shishio questioned. "Here to help Sokusai? As you can see, your presence probably cost her some fair amount of concentration, and now I definitely have the upper hand. So what will you do?"

Shishio noticed Sokusai's pale hand move deftly, pushing her sheath to collide with his chin. He barely flinched, but it was enough to break his concentration.

Aoshi was flying towards them swiftly, kodachi out. Shishio did not loose his hold of Sokusai. There was nothing Aoshi could do; Aoshi would never hurt Sokusai to get to him.

So he thought.

Before either Shishio or Sokusai had time to register, Aoshi's kodachi had pierced through Sokusai's right shoulder, protruding into Shishio's chest. Blood spurted out immediately, slopping to the tiles on the floor.

Sokusai's blade dropped to the ground. A red stream of blood trickled from her sculptured lips as her dark eyes widened in shock.

Shishio loosened his grip around the feminine figure.

"Hah," he panted, "to think that even a whipped dog could cruelly attack a woman to get to his enemy."

With one kick, he sent Sokusai flying into the wall. She crumpled like a doll, lifeless as the scarlet color pooled around her body.

"I underestimated your personality," Shishio said in disdain. "Looks like I'll have to take this dog a bit more seriously."

*************

Pain. It hurt. Her body was burning up. Her life force was flowing out as quickly as a broken dam. It hurt. Why? She wanted to die.

*************

"Shit," Sagara breathed, "is she dead?"

"I don't know," Aoshi answered, tone worried.

He placed a warm hand on her wrist, then neck, then to her temple. A slight rhythm.

"I think I feel a pulse," he said.

Kikome's eyes snapped open. She stared at him, then bolted upright, standing up as fast as she could to get away from him.

"Don't touch me," she shrieked, gasping for air. "Don't you _dare_ think you can—"

It was as if the pain hit her full force at that one moment.

She cut off mid-way through her sentence, grabbing her shoulder and stomach, doubling over in agony. A high-pitched scream sounded from her lips as the deep red color stained her marble-colored hands.

"Kikome!" Sagara cried, unable to run towards her due to his wounds.

She collapsed on her knees, coughing, clutching her stomach. Blood splattered from her mouth in front of her. She couldn't breathe, coughing and spewing out blood at the same time. Aoshi stared, uncertain of helping her or staying put like she had demanded.

A taller figure pushed past him, making his way to Kikome.

"Calm down," Saitou ordered, wrapping his arm around her waist. With his free hand, he forced her head upward. Her eyes looked glassy as she struggled to inhale.

"Breathe." Saitou stroked her throat, trying to clear her windpipe of the blood.

A few minutes passed until her breathing began to stabilize.

"Good girl," Saitou said soothingly, withdrawing his hand from her neck and adjusting her body so that she was laying heavily on his shoulder. "Stay this way for a while, it'll make it easier to breathe."

Kikome finally seemed to notice him.

"Saitou?" she said, scarcely whispering.

"It's me," he said, patting her cheek. "Don't talk."

"Shit," she said, shaking slightly. "Thank God…I thought you died…"

"Idiot," he said coolly. "Shut up and sit there."

Aoshi stiffened as Saitou's golden eyes met him. A chill ran down his spine. While no one had seen except for Shishio and his cronies, and Kikome had not told him, Aoshi felt that Saitou had known immediately who had injured her.

Even Aoshi didn't know what had caused him to attack so suddenly. He had seen her, in danger. Yet he had still seen the opportunity, and had taken it. Anything to defeat Shishio…to help Battousai.

Sokusai sat still by Saitou, left hand gripping her right shoulder tightly. Her eyes were slightly unfocused, and her face was covered in perspiration. She seemed determined not to look at him, whether she was conscious or not.

*************

Pain.

Don't give second chances. People never change.


	30. Death

**Chapter 28: Death**

A sword. Yumi was crying, embracing Shishio as the blood poured out from her heart. Stabbed through by the man she adored to get to Kenshin.

All men were the same. Women were dispensable when it came to a their fights.

*************

The fight was over. Shishio was dead, with his woman, and Battousai had collapsed. The surviving Shishio supporter had dashed out the doors, howling like a madman. Finally, the fight was won.

Kikome laid in Saitou's arms, still bleeding profusely. Saitou had examined her wound as best as he could without causing her to move. She had been pierced straight through her right shoulder; the bandages at her neck had been dampened with the scarlet shade as well. Her wounds from Aoshi must have also been reopened during her second battle.

The quicker they got out of there, the better. Saitou couldn't help but think that her chances of surviving were incredibly low, given the amount of blood loss.

"Hang on," he told her. "I'm going to pick you up so you don't have to walk."

He thought she hadn't heard him, but a weak nod of assent was all he needed to see.

Saitou scooped her off the ground, holding her carefully.

"Agh," she winced. Despite his cautiousness, the movement caused her arm to swing limply down, increasing blood flow.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"Saitou, I…can't feel my arm," she whispered.

Damn. Saitou refused to answer, to voice his growing concern for her. Couldn't feel her arm? Damn it. They needed to get out of here, find a doctor.

He followed the rest of the group past the tall doors, only to find the second exit sealed off.

"That damn pointy-eyed bastard!" Sagara roared, supporting an unconscious Battousai. "We've got to get out of here…what the hell is up with these doors? Even if I could use _Futae no Kiwami_, they're too thick to break through."

Saitou sighed impatiently.

"Kikome, can you stand for a moment?" he asked. "I've got to break through these doors."

She nodded, slipping out of his arms.

Saitou glanced around. Sagara was already supporting Battousai. Unwillingly, he turned to Aoshi.

"Shinomori," he said coldly, "hold her up for a moment."

"Don't," Kikome said immediately. "Don't come near. Stay away. I'm fine."

Aoshi obliged, though Saitou could see the worry he had for her in his eyes.

Did he really injure her, as Saitou surmised? If he had, why look at her with such concern? Enough. First get her to a doctor, make sure she'll survive. Then deal with the perpetrator. If it was Shishio who had stabbed her through, then there was nothing Saitou could do.

The steel doors crumpled effortlessly in the face of his _Gatotsu_. The strain on his legs caused his wounds from Usui to reopen, but it was no big deal. He walked back to Kikome, catching before she toppled over.

"Saitou, your wounds," Sagara yelled from behind.

"Tch. I've been through more life-or-death situations than all of you have combined. This is nothing."

He picked Kikome up again, watching her stiff arm dangle lifelessly.

"Your wounds okay?" she asked him softly.

"Idiot. Don't worry about me."

The ground suddenly began to shake like an earthquake as debris began falling from the surrounding pillars. Saitou leapt forward instinctively just as a gargantuan piece of rubble crashed through the bridge holding them, separating Kikome and Saitou from the rest of them.

"Saitou! Kikome!" Sagara yelled.

"Tch, how annoying…" Saitou analyzed his environment. No way out. Not to mention that he was hampered by the still figure in his hands.

Don't be dead, he prayed. He turned around and began to walk back into the building they just came out of.

"Saitou! What are you doing?!" Sagara shouted. "You can't just go back there! Trying to run while you're still ahead?! Give me a break!"

"You're going to kill her!" Shinomori's voice joined in.

Saitou smirked at him. "I wonder, who's the one who caused her to look this way?"

Aoshi winced. So it really was him.

"Sokusai and I were never part of your 'team' anyway. It's only natural that we part in the end."

The flames soared from the gap, engulfing the entire area. Saitou paused uncertainly. Time to get out of here. He was unnaturally calm. Having lived through so many of these situations, he no longer felt the panic that most men did.

He held Kikome's unconscious body closer to him. This was a problem. He had another life to account for this time.

*************

Hiko waited patiently at the Aoiya, much to his dismay.

The moon was high in the eastern sky. They were certainly taking their time.

"They're here!" Kaoru cried. "They're back!"

Hiko watched as three figures appeared in the distance. Only three? Well, Kenshin had said she was closer to another policeman guy than to his group. Maybe she was with him.

Kaoru ran towards Kenshin, crying and calling out Kenshin's name. He was on the verge of death. As the others took Kenshin back inside the inn, Hiko shook his head. The idiot still got himself beat to a pulp. He needed more practice.

"Hey," Hiko said to the rooster head. "Where's Kikome at? She okay?"

The rooster head and his taller companion exchanged looks.

"Who are you?" the green-eyed male asked.

"Hiko Seijuuro. I'm Kikome's Shishou. Now where is she already?"

"She…" the rooster head said.

"What?" Hiko demanded edgily. The suspense was aggravating him. They could just tell him where she was already.

"She's dead," the emerald-eyed one said bluntly.

Hiko's eyes widened. "What?"

"She was injured in the fight…" the rooster head said, trembling slightly. "She and Saitou were separated from the rest of us when we were trying to get out. The entire castle collapsed…and…"

Hiko grabbed the burly one by the collar.

"This better not be some stupid joke," he said fiercely. "Kikome wouldn't die. She's much more cautious than Kenshin! You'd better tell me where she is this instant!"

"She's dead!" the green-eyed one shouted. "She's dead and gone! She's not coming back!"

Hiko released the young one in his hands. A sorrow he had not felt in years…since Ayame's death, came claiming his soul.

"This…is impossible."

"It's true," the black-haired one said harshly.

"Who…how?"

"…I did it."

"What?"

"I killed her. After our fight was finished, she went to fight Shishio. I went up later, and I saw an opportunity to kill Shishio. I stabbed her through to get to him."

"You what?!" his companion yelled. "What the hell, I thought it was Shishio who did that!"

"You said 'our fight.' You are Shinomori Aoshi?" Hiko asked in the same deadly calm passed onto his apprentice.

The jade eyes closed. "Yes."

Hiko's fist connected with Aoshi's face as hard as he could manage. Aoshi fell to the ground from the force.

"So you were the one who betrayed her," Hiko said callously. "The one who caused her so much pain. The one who caused her to come to Kyoto in the first place! And you killed her in the end?!"

He unsheathed his sword and brought it over Aoshi's face. The emerald eyes looked at him unwaveringly.

"You killed my daughter. I'll take your life in retribution."

"Stop it!" a female voice cried.

The weasel girl came running between the two men.

"Aoshi-sama just got back!" she yelled. "What are you doing, trying to kill him?!"

"Move aside, girl," Hiko said frostily. "Or I'll run you through too."

"No."

"Misao, move," Aoshi ordered.

"Aoshi-sama, what do you mean?! Why aren't you fighting back?!"

"Because I deserve death. I deserve hell. For forsaking her despite the second chance she gave me," Aoshi closed his eyes, "I welcome death, Hiko-san."

Hiko stood still, blade poised over the two people.

Kill him, his mind ordered. Kill the man who robbed you of your daughter, of the last living memory of Ayame. Destroy him. Kill—

A bloody hand clasped over his own.

"Stop this, Shishou," Kenshin said wearily.

"He killed Kikome, idiot. You expect me to move aside?"

"The situation hasn't been clarified. Everything was happening so fast…even if Kikome hadn't been injured, it's highly likely that she and Saitou would've been separated from us anyway." Kenshin sighed. "Let's not add anymore to the death toll."

"Tch," Hiko scoffed. The agony was trumping his anger.

"This is enough," Kenshin said calmly. "Let us rest."

Hiko obliged, watching as the rest of the Aoiya ninjas took their beloved Okashira back into the inn. An insurmountable sadness gnawed at his heart.

After everything that Hiko had done to keep her safe, to make her stay behind…no matter how hard he struggled against fate, Kikome was dead.

*************

"Hey, Saitou, are you sure this girl is even alive?"

Chou scratched his chin. "I mean, she's not moving a bit."

"She's breathing," Saitou said jadedly. "That's all the confirmation I need."

Kikome laid motionless on a bed. An old doctor finished cleaning up the blood and proceeded to treat her wounds, stitching up the extensive cut on her shoulder and shaking his head.

"I've lived for a long time, and seen many cases," he said. "It pains me to see such a young woman hurt to this degree. What exactly were you doing?"

"Saving Japan," Saitou replied dryly. "The wound in her arm…was it caused by a katana?"

The doctor examined the cut closely.

"No…I don't think so…it's from something shorter. The abrasion internally seems less intense than what a katana would cause…maybe a wakizashi?"

"A kodachi," Saitou confirmed.

He'd kill that Shinomori bastard the next time he saw him, if he ever did.

Saitou let out a sigh and looked out the window. They were at the police headquarters. Even Saitou had to admit that getting out of Shishio's fortress alive had been a miracle. Chou had been the only one awake at the time, and Saitou had made him find a doctor immediately. Kikome's breathing had become so faint that Saitou could have sworn that she was dead.

She was unconscious still, and there was no telling when she would wake up. The doctor had simply shaken his head when Saitou asked, which meant that Kikome was not out of the danger zone.

Saitou controlled his emotions perfectly. He displayed a nonchalant attitude, a confident bearing that masked the turmoil he felt. She had come so close to dying. Hell, he didn't even know if she'd make it yet. If she were to die now…Saitou refused to think about it.

"You, sir, have you cleaned up your wounds as well?" the doctor asked Saitou, nodding to the slashes across his legs.

"I'll be fine," Saitou said tersely. "I've already treated them. Take care of her instead. Chou, go get us something to eat."

"The hell, Saitou?!" Chou complained. "I'm not your attendee!"

Saitou raised an eyebrow. "If you want to be pardoned by the government, be sure to get something decent within, say, ten minutes?"

"No one's open at this time!"

"Ten minutes, Chou."

Chou swore and left the room, grumbling all the while down the stairs. Saitou sighed again and watched the doctor work.

"What's your name, doctor?"

"Takashi Hoshu. And you would be Saitou Hajime, former captain of the third unit of the Shinsengumi?"

The tip of Saitou's sword was at his neck before the sentence was finished.

"And you would know this…how?"

"Hey, hey, don't point that thing at me. The people downstairs told me."

"There are no people downstairs," said Saitou warily.

"I have my sources. There's no need to be worried, all right? Besides, I'm treating this girl."

Saitou withdrew his katana, on guard nevertheless.

"So, my sources didn't say anything about her. Who exactly is she?"

Deeming it prudent not to flat out say Sokusai, Saitou answered, "That's none of your business."

"I know about your identity. What's the harm in knowing more?"

Saitou was liking the doctor less and less.

"Ignorance is bliss. Now shut up and cure her."

Takashi laughed. "What a kind way to treat your elders. You care for this woman?"

"I don't think anyone could not care for her." Saitou picked up a piece of paper laying on the table, trying to distract himself by reading its contents. Nothing registered.

"You should calm down, you know. No matter how much you fret, she's not going to wake up for a while."

"What's her condition?"

Takashi shook his head. "She might be in a coma. I can't be sure if she's really going to survive."

Saitou dropped his paper. "Didn't you say her condition stabilized earlier?"

"Her _breathing_ stabilized earlier. This condition of absolute stillness is anomalous…and her body is growing cold."

Saitou rushed over to the bed and took Kikome's thin hand in his. Her fingers were freezing.

"Her pallor is also aberrant. You can hardly hear her breathing."

Saitou slipped his hand to her wrist, seeking a pulse. It was faint, but there.

"She has a pulse," Saitou said, relieved.

The doctor nodded. "Well, that's a start."

He stood up and offered his hand to Saitou. He took it unwillingly.

"I'll leave some bandages here, and come by tomorrow to check on her condition. There's nothing much we can do at this point except to wait."

The old man left the room, leaving Saitou and the unmoving body alone.

Her temperature was unnatural and worrisome. Saitou took one white hand into both of his, attempting to convey some of his body warmth and prayer.

_Please survive_, his inner thoughts begged, _please live._


	31. Helplessness

**Chapter 29: Helplessness**

Three weeks had passed since the Shishio incident.

Saitou sat in his temporary residence, looking through documents dealing with the acquittal of various Juppongatana officers. Only two had not been caught: Soujirou the Tenken and Iwanbo, who Chou insisted was too stupid to cause any harm by himself. As for Soujirou, Saitou highly doubted that they would ever catch the boy.

Kikome had still not woken up. Her pulchritude was undiminished despite her stillness, but her pallor reflected her soul as it seemed to hover between the point of life and death. At times, she would have a fever that peaked at incredible temperatures, and the next day she would be as cold as death. Saitou was worried, and not without reason. Intelligent as he was, medicine was not his forte, and he was forced to rely on an idiot of a doctor, who seemingly prescribed "rest" for her. Well, obviously she was resting.

Takashi Hoshu had taken a great liking to Kikome, and it bothered Saitou. He made sure that they were never left in the same room alone; if Saitou was busy, he sent Chou to stay with them.

Saitou stared at the papers, not comprehending the contents. His days constantly revolved around the obsessing thought of Kikome. What if she never woke up? What if she died? And if she did wake up, who knew if the trauma had addled her brain to some degree?

It was simply a bad time for this to happen. Just as Saitou was about to clarify Kikome's feelings for him, she was utterly unattainable. And it would be extremely insensitive of him to force the topic on her when she woke up. If she woke up.

For once, he hated his pessimistic disposition.

Saitou snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a choked yell from down the hall.

"Saitou! Get the hell in here!" Chou's voice called urgently.

He ran quickly to Kikome's room, bewildered at the sight.

Kikome was sitting up, her right hand clutching the blankets to her body while her left was strangling the doctor. Her dark eyes, (how Saitou had missed seeing them!), flashed with fury as her grip tightened.

"Holy crap, Saitou, calm her down!" Chou yelled, trying to separate her fingers from Takashi's neck. "The hell, woman! He's been caring for you the whole time you've been knocked out, don't try to kill—"

Chou's sentence cut off midway. Kikome's murderous _ki_, directed towards Chou, filled the atmosphere, causing him to back off.

Saitou felt waves of relief wash over him as he approached her.

"Kikome," he said calmly, fitting a gloved hand between hers and the doctor's neck, "let him go."

Upon seeing him, her tense shoulders relaxed, and she withdrew her hand.

The doctor doubled over, coughing. "What's wrong with you, young woman! To seize my windpipe so easily—"

"Your neck would be off if I had a weapon," she replied coolly.

"I was treating you!"

"Treating me would not require removing my clothes down to my chest," she replied in her euphonious voice. "Who knew doctors could be such creeps."

Kikome slid her robes back over her injured shoulder. As she moved her right arm to do the same, she gasped and her arm fell to her lap.

"Your arm will unable to regain its former performance," Takashi said harshly, massaging his throat. "The wound was extensive, piercing you through completely. It will take months, maybe years to heal."

Saitou finished slipping her robes over her bare shoulder.

"Well, you're alive," he said in dry relief. "That's a start."

Kikome's eyes met his.

"Saitou…"

"I'm glad to see that you're awake." He touched her cheek gently, resisting the urge to hold her, knowing that others were around.

Her eyes closed as she took his hand into both of her own.

"How long have I been out?"

"Three weeks. I thought you were dead for sure…"

She laughed weakly, then broke off coughing.

Saitou eased her back on the propped up pillows. "Your health's probably going to be pretty bad for a while. Meanwhile, could you suppress your _ki_? Chou's shaking in fear."

"I can't," she said, leaning heavily back and focusing on breathing. "My emotions and _ki_ are running high; I can't seem to control them."

She opened her eyes and stared at them. "If you can," she addressed Chou and Takashi, "you should leave before you're really rendered immobile."

Saitou nodded to Chou, who grabbed the doctor and left in a hurry.

Kikome sighed. "I scared them."

"No. You scared _me_." Saitou sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at her intently. "I really thought you died."

She smiled sadly. "My arm's useless though."

"But _you're_ alive. Your arm can heal."

"Damn. If only he pierced my left shoulder—"

Saitou refused to let her finish her comment, no longer able to resist. He took her into his arms and kissed her ardently, communicating his relief in full force, conveying the emotions that he had felt for almost a month. He wouldn't let her reminisce in hopelessness, thinking about Shinomori Aoshi.

He could feel her _ki_ rise, and realized how little restraint she had on it. He could read her every emotion, could feel the ecstasy running through her veins, the fear, the pleasure, the unwillingness. He laughed inwardly. This weakened Sokusai was so different from the one he knew, the one he could never anticipate. Saitou could see the entity of her soul now.

She pushed against him, half-heartedly, it seemed. He grabbed her hands and pinned them to her side effortlessly, hardly feeling her resistance. Saitou broke off their kiss and began nuzzling her neck instead, savoring her cool touch, the beauty of her pale skin.

"Stop," she said, panting. He ignored her, knowing full well that she hardly wanted him to.

"Saitou," she begged. "Saitou, don't make me feel any more helpless than I already do."

The surprising plea caught him off guard, and he brought his advances to a halt.

"Helpless?" he asked, releasing her arms and cradling her face in his hands. "Why?"

The Sokusai he knew would've slapped him, would've cursed him for his "ridiculous advances." The woman in front of him didn't.

"If you really wanted me to stop," he said, "I would've read that wish in your _ki_. I didn't find it there."

"Hah…so you can read it," she said, looking away bitterly.

"It was hard not to."

"That's the point. I can't control my _ki_ like I used to, nor can I sense others'. My strength has deteriorated as well. I can't push you away."

His lips touched hers again, softly, coaxingly. Saitou could feel her response, could sense the latent desire in her to give into her physical wants. Why resist then?

"I can feel it," he said, putting a finger to her mouth. "Your lust. Your craving for intimacy. Why not succumb?"

"Because that isn't me," she replied. "The _ki_ that you're feeling now is not Sokusai. It is the woman inside me, the weak one that I thought I got rid of a long time ago. Apparently not," she added resentfully, "but that is the helpless female side of me that Sokusai was supposed to destroy. The Sokusai inside me is sleeping. She's weary, she's injured, she's helpless. That's what you're supposed to be feeling in my _ki_."

Kikome pushed his hands slowly away from her face.

"Saitou…please refrain from expressing what you're feeling. Don't take advantage of me in this pathetically unstable state."

"You're really the cruelest person I know," he replied coldly.

The woman from before would have turned around indifferently, with an arrogant smirk dancing on her crimson lips, ignoring him.

Kikome looked at him and smiled so sadly that he instantly wished to retract his choice of words. Her dark eyes shone with a regret, a sorrow that he had never seen before.

"I'm sorry."

*************

Hiko had been in Kyoto for much of the last three weeks. Returning to his humble home in the outskirts seemed like running back to the grave of Kikome. Every time he looked around, he could see the memories flood back into him, the ones he forgot a long time ago. Raising her, teaching her, scolding her…Hiko took another drink, drowning in his unspeakable sorrow. The café was bustling with people; the only available seats were in Hiko's booth.

A tall police officer walked past him, a slender woman dressed in a deep blue kimono next to him. The man looked around, and addressed Hiko.

"Do you mind if we sit here?"

Hiko shook his head, looking out the window. "Go ahead."

"…Shishou?" an all too familiar voice said hesitatingly.

Hiko whirled around. He had to be hallucinating.

"Kikome?" he said hoarsely.

The woman nodded slowly. "What are you doing here? I thought you hated the city."

He stood up and slapped her, not as hard as he could, but enough for it to sting. Kikome's eyes widened in shock.

"What the hell?!" he roared, causing the entire shop to go quiet. "I've been drowning in sorrow for the last month, thinking you were dead, and you're actually alive, and not considerate enough to drop by and actually _tell_ me that you're fine and kicking—"

The man with Kikome drew her back protectively, his golden eyes gleaming uncaringly.

"This is between a teacher and his apprentice," Hiko told him, hardly afraid. "Step aside."

"I'm afraid that we can't have a public spectacle here," the wolfish man replied in a steely tone. "Do settle down, and we'll discuss this."

"Saitou, wait—"

"Be quiet, Kikome."

The three of them sat down in their booth, ignoring the interested onlookers. Hiko analyzed his opponent. His _ki_ was controlled expertly, revealing nothing but the surface aura of a menace, and his body was well-built. Clearly, he was quite the strong one.

Kikome looked uneasily between the two of them.

"I—"

"In her defense," Saitou said, interrupting her, "Kikome only woke up today. She's been in an unstable medical state for the last three weeks. In dealing with the issue of contacting you, I'm afraid I was unaware of where you lived, and how exactly to contact you. For reasons you most likely know, I was not about to walk into the Aoiya and ask for your address."

"Oh," Hiko said, understanding. "Well. That changes things."

He grinned. "Sorry, Kikome. You okay?"

"I've been through worse than that," she replied dryly. She stopped a waitress as she was passing by.

"Hi, we're ready to order," Kikome smiled beautifully. "A large bowl of plain soba for Saitou please."

"You're not eating anything?" Saitou said in surprise.

"I'm not very hungry."

"She's lying," Hiko said. "She'd like a platter of eel sushi with jasmine tea. And more sake for me please."

"S-sure," the waitress said, bewildered.

"You look really bad," Hiko said honestly to Kikome. "Just because you're not hungry doesn't mean you can't eat anything."

Kikome wrapped her arms over her stomach. "It's not like I don't want to…it's more like I feel that I'm not going to be able to keep it down."

Hiko looked at her, concerned.

"You're in really bad shape, aren't you? You can't even control your _ki_."

He saw her hands contract slightly.

"Yeah, I know."

"How badly were you wounded?" Hiko asked.

"Two broken ribs, another's probably fractured, internal bleeding in her stomach, and a pierced-through arm," Saitou answered mechanically. "Most of those weren't caused by Shishio."

Kikome looked at Saitou, alarmed. Saitou continued to stare at Hiko intently.

"How did you know?" she said breathlessly.

"Intuition," Saitou replied mercilessly. "I suspected it when you woke up back on Mt. Hiei, considering your reaction, but I wasn't sure. When the bridge collapsed, and Shinomori was voicing his concern for you, I countered with a few sarcastic remarks and increased the possibility to fifty percent. The thing that really confirmed it was the doctor. He said the internal abrasion was definitely made by something shorter than a katana, and the only person who didn't fight with a katana was Shinomori Aoshi."

"You…gave this a lot of thought," Hiko said.

Saitou blinked. "I was worried."

Hiko gave a smirk. This man really harbored some deep affection for Kikome. He felt his respect for Saitou grow a notch, now knowing that Kikome was in good hands.

The waitress returned with the orders, and Kikome simply stared at it.

"Eat it, Kikome," Hiko ordered.

She scowled in return, pushing it away from her. Saitou stopped the tray and pulled it back.

"Eat it."

She sighed and picked up her chopsticks, picking at her food and eventually putting it in her mouth.

"So about Shinomori Aoshi," Hiko said, noticing that Kikome was refusing to look anywhere but at her plate, "he told me that he injured Kikome's arm. Actually, he said that he killed her, which basically made me believe that he did, so I was going to kill him."

"Did you?" Saitou asked, interested. "If you did, then I would have missed the fun."

"No, Kenshin got in the way," Hiko said, disgruntled as he remembered that night. "So I didn't."

Saitou lit a cigarette. "Then that job will be left to me."

"Or you two could just abandon the job and let me deal with it," Kikome said coldly, raising her head up.

Saitou barely looked at her. "You're injured. I'd rather you not come in contact with him anyway, or else he'll really finish you off."

Kikome sighed, putting down her chopsticks. "This is a really disgusting feeling."

"What is?" Hiko questioned.

"Being a normal woman," she said disdainfully. "Having to leave business to men to discuss. It sickens me."

There was an awkward pause. Hiko surveyed his apprentice in disbelief. How in the world was she normal? Radiating an aura of murderous intent even when she was smiling…but then again, only fighters could sense it. She was still capable of concealing her _ki_ from normal citizens unless she exerted it.

"You're over thinking it," Saitou said. "You'll heal."

She began to laugh. "Since when have you been so optimistic, Saitou? You're always so—"

A coughing fit interrupted her remark, and she doubled over, clutching her stomach.

"Kikome!" Hiko shouted, getting up.

Saitou had already swooped her up in his arms, tossing a few bills on the table.

"We'll go back to my office," he said to Hiko, unruffled. "There's a doctor there."

Hiko nodded, and the two men set out quickly. They arrived within a few minutes, and Saitou carried Kikome up a flight of stairs to a room illuminated in sunlight.

Another man with blond hair like a broom was already in the room.

"Saitou!" he exclaimed. "Oh, and the girl too. Damn, she doesn't look too good."

Hiko privately agreed. Kikome's already alabaster complexion had intensified into a pasty white, and her face was covered in perspiration.

"Chou, is Takashi in?" Saitou asked, laying Kikome down on the bed.

Hiko stiffened. Takashi? Well, it was a popular surname, so it was probably coincidental that Kikome's doctor's last name was the same as her father's.

An older man rushed in eagerly with a stethoscope. "Has the young lady fainted again? Here, let me see—"

Hiko's sword was at the old man's neck in a moment's time.

"Takashi Hoshu?" Hiko said incredulously.

"Please stop pointing that thing at me! Do you know who I am—" The old man turned around and stopped speaking. His eyes widened.

"You're…that kid who was with Ayame."

Hiko grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall forcefully.

"You still remember her, eh? I thought you'd pretty much forget about the woman's life you ruined," he said furiously. "I bet you're all anxious to see this girl's skin here too, you filthy bastard—"

Hiko sensed Saitou's _ki_ grow in impatience and cast Takashi to the ground, facing Saitou. His intuition was correct; Saitou's sword was unsheathed.

"I'd be happy to allow you two to carry on later," he said icily, "but I'd like someone to look at Kikome first before she dies of some unknown cause."

"Which I was precisely about to do," Takashi bustled, standing up, "until this man decided to attack me—"

"Yeah, well a piece of advice from me," Hiko said loudly, drowning out Takashi's frail voice. "Don't go feeling up on her; she happens to be your daughter."

The stethoscope dropped with a clank.

"What?" Takashi said, disbelieving.

"If you happen to remember, you raped Ayame, got her pregnant, and this girl here," Hiko gestured to Kikome, "is the product of that."

"Impossible," Takashi said feebly. "There's no way—"

"I really don't give a damn or not if she's your daughter," Saitou said, keeping his cool authoritative tone. "Treat her already."

"He doesn't need to," Kikome's voice said. She sat up gingerly, breathing slowly. "I don't need help from him."

"You heard?" Hiko asked.

"Yeah," she exhaled. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get something to drink."

Saitou pushed her down back on the bed.

"Chou, go get some water."

"I'm not your errand boy, Saitou!"

"Your acquittal?"

Chou swore loudly and left the room.

Saitou turned to Takashi. "You're dismissed. Don't come back."

"This is ridiculous!" Takashi said angrily. "Just because of this man's claims, you're going to let this girl's life be jeopardized—"

"I'm fine!" Kikome said, irritated. Hiko could feel her _ki_ soar with anger. "Go away!"

Takashi looked at her pitifully. "You really do look like your mother…"

"You have no right to talk about my mother," Kikome said frigidly, once again struggling to stand up, only to find Saitou's arm restricting her. "You'd best get out of my sight."

Takashi picked up his stethoscope and began to leave.

"If you really are my daughter, know your limits," he said before his departure. "I am an extremely powerful figure in the government and in medicine. Be prepared for an onslaught of problems that you'll face."

She retorted with a phrase that Hiko swore he didn't teach her.

After seeing Takashi leave, she let out a breath. Hiko noticed that her grip on Saitou's arm was tense, as if she were holding on to a lifeline.

"I'm…going to rest for a bit," she said softly, taking off her shoes and slipping under the thin covers. "Just send Chou-san in with the water when he comes back."

Saitou patted her on the head and beckoned Hiko to follow him out. As Hiko glanced back, Kikome was facing the wall, her shoulders shaking slightly. In fear? Rage? Sorrow? No…it was in helplessness. Unable to protect herself, unable to face her biological father.

Hiko looked at Saitou's broad back as he followed him down the stairs and smirked. Only he was able to take care of his feisty daughter. Only he was worthy.


	32. Mission

**Chapter 30: Mission**

Chou returned to the office, a carton of iced water in one hand and onigri in the other. He figured that it'd be a better idea to get some food before Saitou ordered him to get it.

Saitou and the freakishly well-built man were sitting at a table, discussing something intensely. Must be about the woman upstairs. Chou shook his head. She was so scary, there was really nothing to talk about…

Saitou noticed him walk in.

"Just go upstairs and give it to her; be quiet though, she might be sleeping."

Chou rolled his eyes and obeyed. If that man wasn't in charge of his pardon from the government, there'd be no way he'd be running around like a dog.

He knocked on the door. "Hi, I've got your water, can I come in?"

Without waiting for a reply, he opened the door.

The woman finished putting on a simple white robe before turning around.

"You ask to come in but don't wait for a reply?" she smirked, sitting back down on the bed. "Good thing I finished changing."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Chou said hastily, placing his packages on the stand next to her. "Well, I'll leave now—"

"Did I scare you that badly?" she laughed gently. "I didn't mean to, you know."

Chou shifted uneasily on his feet. "Well, that was a hell of a vicious _ki_ I sensed…"

"I had just woken up, and the doctor…surprised me. I didn't mean to take it out on you. Besides, it's a bit hard for me to control it right now." She placed the first layer of blankets over her legs and twisted to get a glass of water.

"Would you mind keeping me company for a while?" she asked. "It's somewhat boring around here."

Chou plopped into a chair and propped his feet up on a desk. "Why don't you ask Saitou to keep you company? You guys are so close and all…"

She smiled bitterly. "I rely on Saitou too much. I'm really…very cruel to him. It's best to keep some distance between us."

Her expression cleared, and she turned to him. "I'm afraid I only know your first name, and it's rude of me to use it without proper introductions. You were part of the Juppongatana?"

Chou nodded. "Katana Gari no Chou, at your service."

She laughed. "Sword loving Chou? That's amusing. Did Shishio give you that name?"

"Nah, it's just what they called me. Everyone in the Juppongatana had a name like that…Usui the Blind Eye, Soujirou the Tenken, Yumi of the Night."

"Yumi…that's Komagata-san isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"She died with Shishio, didn't she?"

"So I heard."

That bitter smile again. "To die in the arms of the one you love. How quaint."

She took another drink. "Ah, I haven't introduced myself yet."

"No need. I already know. You're Hitokiri Sokusai, aren't you?"

"You could probably say 'was.' I'm pretty incapable of killing anyone right now."

She flexed her fingers carefully.

"Nah, I wouldn't say that. Anyone with that level of _ki_ is pretty damn capable of assassination."

Sokusai chuckled. "Well, true, anyone can stab. I meant gracefully killing…though that's not really much of a description either."

"You're being a pessimist," Chou said in his Osaka drawl. "Saitou is pretty sure you're going to recover just fine."

"Part of him is wishing that I won't," she said cryptically.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing." She placed her glass on the table and leaned back against the pillows. "Even with that moron of a doctor around, my arm's going to heal extremely slowly, if at all. With Saitou around, I'll be bedridden for ages.'

"You know, Battousai's brought a doctor from Tokyo, and I heard she's really skilled. Why not let her check up on—"

"No," she said firmly. "Don't you dare tell them I'm alive."

Chou rolled his eyes. "Hell, they're _worried_ about you two—"

"I don't care,' she said coolly. Chou tensed as her _ki_ expanded in anger.

"Hey, try controlling your _ki_ a little, all right? You're scaring me."

Sokusai let out a breath. "Sorry."

The antagonism diminished slightly.

"I mean, not that it's my place to say anything, but why put your pride over your life? Just go ask the woman to cure you, and you'll be fine in a jiffy."

"It's not just a matter of pride, Chou-san. It's something deeper than that."

"I can't think of anything else, really. Besides, with a reputation and a face like yours, there probably isn't anything bigger to you than your ego."

"How crudely worded. I don't care much for my face. Men who look for a woman based on looks are useless."

"Then what is it?"

She turned to him and smiled again. It was completely different from the one he had seen before, when she was speaking with bitterness and regret about Saitou. No, this smile sent shivers down Chou's spine, and confirmed his thoughts that she was seriously one of the most dangerous people he knew, even more so than Saitou. Her _ki_ was controlled perfectly, revealing nothing but a sadistic streak and a desire to harm. This was the true Sokusai.

"It's because I want Shinomori Aoshi to suffer."

*************

Saitou looked up at the ceiling.

"He's taking a long time," he remarked, letting out a breath of smoke. "What's he doing?"

"Let him be, Kikome's probably just chatting with him." Hiko looked around the office.

"You run this place?" he asked.

"Something along those lines," Saitou answered indifferently. He was beginning to feel anxious.

Hiko snorted. "You're a possessive one, aren't you?"

"What?"

"It's so obvious that you're concerned about Kikome and the broom head upstairs. Give it a rest, she's not a loose woman."

"It's nothing like that."

"Yeah, right," Hiko scoffed. "You're quite in love with my apprentice. That much is pretty clear."

"I should probably stop making that so apparent," Saitou said, annoyed. "It's bothers her as well."

"You've already told her?"

"She…picks up on her surroundings fairly quickly."

"And she's rejected you?"

"More than twice now," Saitou said with a wry smile. "Oh well. At first, I thought it was just because of Shinomori Aoshi. Now, I feel like she just has a natural aversion to me."

"No, it's most likely because of her pride."

Her pride again. Always so troublesome. But Saitou would not dare attempt to crush it, knowing that it was the epitome of Sokusai's entity. Her pride and her blade. With her right arm so damaged, her arrogance had taken a blow as well. Sokusai would be increasingly hard to deal with as her frustration with herself grew.

"I raised her to be that way, to always place her pride as a unique woman above anything else. For her, that included her natural dependency on men. After Shinomori betrayed her, she must have felt it more as a personal insult than an actual betrayal. Consequently, she's less likely to open up to you."

Hiko cleared his throat. "However, I have expectations of you."

Saitou raised an eyebrow. "Expectations?"

"I've been observing you in the last…hour that we've met. You genuinely care for my student, and I'm willing bet you'll love her more than Shinomori Aoshi ever did."

"If he ever did," Saitou corrected. "But this is interesting. You're that willing to let her go? I imagined you to be…more protective."

"Kikome really needs to find a man worthy of her time," Hiko said slowly. "I can't have her still living so independently in the prime of her youth. The injury to her arm occurred at a good time. She needs to settle down."

Saitou looked at him in skepticism. "I'm afraid I'm quite unable to make her 'settle down.' I move a lot."

Hiko waved his indignation aside. "That's not what I mean. She needs someone to support her. She's lived for eleven years with half a soul. Someone needs to fill it."

Saitou leaned back in his chair, smoking and pondering.

"I think your analysis is too hasty," he finally said.

"No, I'm good at reading people."

"So am I. And Kikome's one of the hardest people I've ever met to read."

"Not anymore."

"Not necessarily," Saitou said. "The raw emotions I'm feeling in her unrestrained _ki_ are her instinctive moods, not her real sentiments."

Saitou could sense Chou coming down the stairs, and decided that he should wrap the conversation up.

Standing up, he said to Hiko, "For now, I'm going to lay off of her for a while, let her recover before I bring it up again."

Hiko grinned. "Though half of you doesn't even want her to recover."

"What makes you think that?"

"Like I said, I'm good at reading people. If she doesn't recover, she can't run astray, and away from you. Having her in a weakened state guarantees that she'll stay close."

Saitou looked at him levelly. "Overall, however, I'd rather her heal. There's no need for me to take advantage of her when she's hardly the woman I remember."

Just as Chou arrived on the ground floor, the door behind them whipped open, and Kawaji, followed by Takashi Hoshu, waltzed in.

"Saitou," Kawaji said with a nod.

"Kawaji-san. What a surprise," Saitou said silkily. "Weren't you supposed to be in Tokyo?"

"I decided to come and help sort out the rest of the Shishio affair, though it seems that you're basically finished with it."

"Then if you already know that, why bother coming?"

"Rude as ever, Saitou," Kawaji said disapprovingly. "An old friend of the government, Takashi Hoshu, claimed that there's been some offense regarding a female friend of yours. May I inquire who that might be?"

"Running to the government for back up?" Hiko sneered. "Pathetic."

Kawaji eyed Hiko curiously. Saitou knew what he was trying to decipher: Hiko's age. The man was definitely much older than he looked. There was something wrong with Hiten masters when it came to their underdeveloped physical appearance.

"Who's this, Saitou?"

"Himura Battousai's Shishou, Hiko Seijuuro the Thirteenth. Please be sure to treat him with respect," Saitou said mockingly, knowing that Kawaji would hardly treat such a young-looking man with respect.

"Battousai's Shishou? Preposterous."

"It's true," Hiko said, standing up. "Now what might you two be needing?"

"I decided to come and investigate the offender myself," Kawaji replied.

"Offender?" a female voice said from the stairs.

Kikome walked elegantly to the office room, having changed into a simpler white robe. Her hair was draped over her right shoulder in a loose ponytail, giving an overall refreshed look. An enigmatic smirk was plastered to her lips. She seemed to have regained some amount of power over her _ki_, as Saitou could only perceive the slightest hint of annoyance radiating from her beautiful profile.

"S-Sokusai?" Kawaji said in astonishment.

"Ah, it's Kawaji-san," she said smoothly. "How delightful to see you again."

Kawaji regained his composure, though it seemed to be rather difficult. Saitou couldn't blame him. Kikome didn't know the effect her pulchritude had on men.

"Sokusai?" Takashi repeated. "As in the infamous hitokiri of the Bakamatsu? _Sokusai_?"

"Good to hear that you know the names of your enemies," she said with her most venomous smile. "Now, what's this about an offense?"

"Takashi Hoshu says that a female friend of Saitou insulted him," Kawaji stammered. "I-I came to investigate."

"Oh, now the government comes to arrest every person who whispers a curse under her breath?" she said in a steely tone. "But my, oh my, Kawaji-san, please don't interfere in personal family matters. After all, Otou-san here," she said scathingly, "doesn't mind."

"Otou-san?" Kawaji reiterated in bewilderment. "You mean to say—"

"Kikome is Takashi's illegitimate daughter," Hiko said with the barest hint of triumph and scorn. "So before you prosecute Kikome for whispering under her breath, why don't you prosecute him for sexual offense?"

"And before we continue this discussion," Saitou added dryly, "why don't we remember that the three of us here helped the Meiji government out on a very minor issue. After all, it was only saving Japan and its people, and only preventing the government from falling completely to the hands of a madman. And let us also remember that someone suffered from considerable wounds as a result of aiding the government?"

Kawaji's expression grew even more confused. "Wounds? You mean Battousai?"

"The idiot's evidently not here," Hiko interjected contemptuously. "We're talking about Sokusai here."

"Let's not belabor my injuries," she said in slight admonition.

"Sokusai, how bad is it?" Kawaji asked in unfeigned concern.

"The government doesn't need to know," she replied indifferently. "I went to Shishio's on my own accord. I don't need any repayment."

Kikome turned to her father. "Well, I'd say this is case closed. Unless Takashi would like to add anything else?"

Takashi opened his mouth furiously.

"Watch your mouth!" he roared in a surprisingly loud voice from someone so feeble. "I don't care if you're some famous hitokiri! I have hundreds of men behind me, and I could easily arrest you! Even if you were my daughter—"

"Even if we are blood related, I refuse to acknowledge any affiliation with you," Kikome interrupted. "So please refrain from ever calling me your daughter, or even mentioning my mother's name."

"You—"

"You seem to be forgetting who you're talking to here," she said, emotionless. "If you don't leave within ten seconds, it's your head that's going to fall."

Saitou could sense her _ki_ rise to frightening heights, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Control yourself," he said warningly.

"Make him leave," she hissed.

"You don't need to tell me to leave," Takashi said with narrowed eyes. "Believe me, I'll make your life hell. Just like I made your mother's, and anyone else who stood in my way!"

"You—"

Takashi was gone before Kikome finished her retort, and Saitou was thankful for the old man's cowardice. No need to make her any more agitated than she already was.

"Calm down," Saitou told her. "Kawaji-san, would there be anything else you need to inform me of?"

"Actually, yes." Kawaji cleared his throat importantly. "My original task was to inform you of your next mission: to track down the man who sold Shishio his ironclad ship, the _Rengoku_. It's shady dealing, and we thought it'd be best to assign someone who already knew about Shishio."

Kawaji handed him a stack of documents and took his leave with a small bow. "Thank you for your help with Shishio."

Saitou flipped through the pages of the packet after Kawaji's presence disappeared. It really was an interesting case…definitely illegal black market trading.

"Main suspect…Yukishiro Enishi," he read aloud.

Kikome's shoulders grew rigid. Saitou noticed her and Hiko exchange looks.

"Yukishiro?" she asked, having reigned in her _ki_. "That sounds familiar…"

"Isn't that the name of Kenshin's—"

"Yes," Kikome said, nodding, "that was Tomoe-san's last name."

Saitou felt as if he was missing something.

"Who?"

"Yukishiro," Kikome said thoughtfully, "that's Kenshin's first wife's surname. That's a bit too coincidental."

*************

Hiko watched peacefully as Saitou and Chou packed up boxes and luggage and hauled them into a carriage. Kikome had pardoned herself earlier, sneaking out before Saitou realized. She had told Hiko that she needed to confirm something relating to the Yukishiro case, and had disappeared before Hiko could ask more.

When Saitou had noticed her absence, Hiko surveyed the man's _ki_ was interest. Really, he was unparalleled when it came to regulating his _ki._ Hiko could hardly discern the worry and annoyance that he felt.

"Hey, Nato-san's back!" Chou called from behind the carriage.

Hiko observed with no little satisfaction as Saitou immediately reacted to her name. Really, so possessive.

Kikome came skidding to a stop in front of them, breathless.

"Where exactly were you?" said Saitou icily.

She shrugged her shoulders, her dark eyes gleaming unnaturally.

"I went to go get something."

Hiko caught sight of an old, worn-out book in her hand.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to it.

"It's Yukishiro Tomoe's diary. I went to her old residence to see if I could find anything out regarding this next mission." She waved it around. "If Yukishiro Enishi is her brother, then this book should prove to be worth a lot."

Saitou seemed to be biting back the scolding that he was dying to make, and wisely decided not to unleash it.

"Come on," he told her. "We're going to get there in the late evening at this rate."

Hiko patted Kikome on the head.

"Take care. Don't overexert yourself. It's okay to depend on others, you know."

She gave him a smug look. "I'll be fine."

"Well, go on then."

Hiko watched as the three of them boarded the carriage, setting off at a quick pace. He let out a breath. She was going to be fine.

The sun grew to a deep red glow hours later, and Hiko finally finished looking through various files in Saitou's old office. List of government officials, government allies, and finally, sponsors. Takashi's name was easily attainable, along with his address.

Hiko pocketed the scrap of paper with Takashi's location and set off at a brisk walk. The wind blew gently as stars began to mix in with the deep lilac color in the sky. He arrived at the back gate of a handsome estate, leaped over the wall effortlessly and entered the side doors. The route he chose was empty, making sure to avoid places where he could sense concentrated _ki_. Hiko isolated a lone presence in a room down a narrow corridor and followed it accordingly.

He slid the door open to find Takashi Hoshu, sitting at an expensive desk with books littered over the surface.

"Y-you!" Takashi stuttered upon seeing Hiko enter. "How did you come in?! There were guards all around!"

"Not really."

Takashi turned as white as a sheet. "You killed them?"

"I'm not out to kill any innocent bystanders who protect trash for a living," Hiko said calmly, unsheathing his katana. "There's only going to be one death tonight."

Takashi grabbed a gun off a shelf behind him and waved it threateningly.

"Don't come any closer," he warned. "I swear I'll shoot."

The gun was cut cleanly in half before he finished his exclamation.

"I don't normally kill people for revenge," said Hiko, "but you're an exception. For almost twenty-five years of hatred. I would've let it go a long time ago, for Ayame, but again, you appeared to threaten her daughter."

Hiko brought the blade up to Takashi's sweaty and fat neck.

"Well then, all I want to say is thank God Kikome doesn't take after you."

Takashi opened his mouth to scream, but before the cry could erupt from his mouth, Hiko's blade had disconnected his head from the rest of his body.

Hiko surveyed the scene with no little satisfaction, licking the blood off of his sword. His eyes gleamed in the glow of the setting sun.

Mission complete.


	33. Restraint

**Chapter 31**:** Restraint  
**

The carriage rolled by leisurely as darkness began to claim the sky. Chou was nodding off in a corner, while Saitou watched Kikome as she gazed unseeingly out the window.

Her katana laid next to her, untouched. Kikome glanced at it in hesitation, almost loathing. Her normal stance would have been to curl it lovingly under her arm; to see it left alone was a slightly disturbing change.

She was shifting her weight constantly, uncomfortable. Sokusai was able to stay as still as a statue for hours. The change in her physical condition was apparent.

"Calm down a bit," Saitou said softly. "Fidgeting like that isn't going to make you any more comfortable."

"It's the yukata," she said disapprovingly. "It's too hot."

Saitou pushed open the window slightly, allowing a cool zephyr to blow against their faces.

"Better?"

"Somewhat."

Kikome let out a sigh and leaned back against the seat.

"What's bothering you the most right now?"

Her reply surprised him.

"My legs."

"What?"

"Don't overreact, all right? When I went to find Yukishiro Tomoe's diary, I figured I shouldn't stay out too long, so I used Shinsoku. I thought it was going to be fine, since I wasn't using Shukuchi, but I guess I'm just a bit out of practice."

"Kikome, you've got to take care of yourself better," said Saitou, annoyed. "If you keep exerting yourself like this—"

"I didn't know I was exerting myself! Honestly, Saitou, Shinsoku is supposed to be a breeze for me! This is," she gripped her legs tightly, "really pathetic. It's like learning how to walk again."

"Kikome—"

Chou snorted abruptly, causing both of them to pause.

"When we get to Tokyo," Kikome said slowly, "you won't need to look after me so much."

"I beg to differ. You don't even have a doctor."

"I'll find one."

Saitou exhaled slowly. "Are you going to ask Takani Megumi?"

Her dark eyes swiveled to stare at him piercingly. "No."

Saitou nodded in relief. "Good."

Her expression changed, now perplexed. "Why do you care?"

"If they found out you were alive, they'd probably tell Shinomori Aoshi, no? And then he'd probably come all the way to Tokyo to see you, which I'd rather not have happen. It's best to keep the news that you're alive down for a while."

She looked at him, pondering something, her thoughts indecipherable.

"What?"

"You want him to repent, right? To wallow in his self-demeaning thoughts for supposedly killing me."

"…Yes. Repent is an understatement." Saitou lit a cigarette. "I want him to suffer."

She gave a smirk that didn't quite conceal the sudden disturbance he felt in her _ki_. Saitou couldn't tell what emotion caused it.

"Precisely."

The hours rolled on as the carriage came to a stop in front of the inn that Sokusai had stayed at for the last month she had been in Tokyo. The same receptionist was at the desk, eyes lighting up as he saw her, immediately falling as he noticed Saitou.

"Nato-san! You've returned! How wonderful to see you again."

Kikome gave a curt nod, her breathing rather harsh. The long travel had been uncomfortable, and while she hadn't voiced a word of complaint, Saitou could tell that she was enduring a great deal of pain.

"She's feeling a bit sick," Saitou said pointedly. "We'll need a few rooms."

The receptionist frowned. "We've kept Nato-san's room free, but I'm afraid we don't have any spare rooms…"

"The entire hotel's booked?" Chou said disbelievingly in his peculiar accent. "You gotta be kidding."

"Yes, I'm afraid—"

"Just get them rooms, would you?" Kikome snapped, now gripping her wounded shoulder tightly. "There's no way there aren't any. Make it fast."

The receptionist looked taken back at Kikome's blunt outburst, but consulted his reservation book nevertheless.

"Um…yes, actually, there's one room a bit further down the hall from Nato-san's room…but really, there's nothing else."

Saitou sighed. "That'll be fine."

They followed the receptionist to their rooms, Chou dragging the luggage.

"Oh, and um…there are currently many guests in the building right now, with the Tanabata festival right around the corner, so we ran out of futons, and there's only one futon per room."

"What kind of hotel is this?!" Chou complained loudly.

"Tanabata's an important festival," Saitou mused. "It's not a surprise that so many people are around."

"No offense, Saitou, but there's no way in hell that I'm going to sleep with another guy, and it's too late for me to look for another inn, and—"

"It's all right," Kikome said wearily. "He can stay with me."

Chou stared at them. "Damn, you two are pretty—"

"It's nothing like that," she said edgily, _ki_ rising uncontrollably. Chou looked at her in apprehension. "I want to go to sleep. This constant bickering is exhausting me."

She opened the door to her room forcefully as the receptionist led Chou to his room.

"I don't have to stay," Saitou said, sliding the door shut. "I can find somewhere else."

"I don't there're any openings, honestly," she said, shuffling through the closet for the futon and laying it out. "Tokyo's pretty busy around this time of year. Besides, you've closed the door. I doubt there's any sincerity behind your empty words."

Saitou smirked and dropped his katana into the corner.

"I'll finish setting up the futon—you go take a bath. You look terrible."

Which was an exaggeration, but she really did look bad, considering how she looked normally.

Kikome left the futon to him and rustled through some cabinets, withdrawing a pair of black robes. She left a set on a counter for him and took the other, disappearing into the bathroom. He could hear the water running and feel the heat emanating from the walls; well, hopefully she was comfortable.

Saitou sat down by a desk and turned the lamp on, deciding to review the Yukishiro documents in order to confront the problem tomorrow. The Chinese Mafia, Gatling guns, ironclad ships…for once, Saitou was so immersed in his work that he didn't hear her approach from behind.

"The bath's open," Kikome's melodious voice said, startling him.

He turned around, noting her damp hair and her less strained complexion. She looked beautifully somber in black.

"Feel better?"

She nodded. "Hurry up though. I can't sleep with the light on."

"Yeah, yeah."

He walked into the bathroom, which was really quite nice. Western style decorations, bath, tiled interior…she was staying at a pricey place. Never worried about money…

Saitou relaxed as he sat in the bath, lighting a cigarette. He was surprised it would light at all, it was so damp in the room. She'd be annoyed if he smoked in front of her.

Three weeks had flown by in a blur, and Saitou didn't know how long he'd have to last restraining himself. Another month? Year? Until she was healed? And who knew if she would?

The thought that she would never heal created a sense of mixed guilt and wish. What Hiko had said was true. Saitou believed that she wouldn't leave him while she was so weak. Kikome needed him, a crutch to support her when she was leaning so heavily on nothing.

Saitou finished his bath and reentered the room to be greeted by darkness.

"Sorry," he said, slipping under the covers.

"It's all right," her dark profile said distantly. She was turned away from him, like always.

A quietness settled over them as Saitou readjusted his position to cautiously place his hand on the space over her head, not touching her.

"Odd."

"What?"

"You normally put your arm over my shoulder. Why the sudden discretion?"

He scoffed. "I told myself that I'd be less…forward for a while. Actually holding you will make that harder for me."

"Hah…yeah."

The two of them drifted off to sleep as the moon shone through a crevice in the windows. An unnatural peace settled.

*************

There was a pressure on his throat, pushing down, suffocating him. Saitou's liquid gold eyes snapped open as his hand reacted to the oppressing force. He could barely breathe.

He took the pale hand away from his neck and slammed the petite figure on her back, restraining her. Kikome's dark eyes were misted over aberrantly, as if she were in a dreamlike state. Her face was covered in perspiration and her body was reaching a frighteningly high temperature.

"Kikome," he said, coughing slightly as oxygen entered his airway. "Kikome, wake up."

He kept her down as her struggles subsided. Her eyes cleared and her breathing returned to normal as she stared at him, bewilderment settling in.

"Saitou?" she said breathlessly.

"Awake now?" he said, immediately letting go. It took all that he could to refrain from keeping her down and going further.

"Shit," she said, eyes widening. "Your neck."

"Ah." He brought a hand up to his throat, feeling a cold substance meet his fingertips.

Kikome gazed at her hands, noticing the scarlet color on the tips of her fingers as well. Her coal eyes widened.

"Did I do that?"

"It's nothing," Saitou said hastily, massaging his throat. It was a lie; he could count three punctures in his throat, and they hurt like hell.

She stared at him for a split second, and bolted for the bathroom. He could hear the water running in the sink and splashing. She emerged, her hair wet again. She had dunked her head in the water, straightening out her state of mind.

Upon entering the room, Kikome immediately went to a cabinet and took out the first-aid kit. She brought it over to him and cleaned up the blood, dabbing the punctures with poultice.

"Don't bandage it."

"It's still bleeding."

"Just don't."

As she put the kit away, Saitou held her face firmly in his hands.

"Are you all right?"

She looked at him incredulously.

"I'm the one that hurt you, and you're asking me if I'm all right?! You're insane."

Kikome tried to move away, but he held her still.

"Were you dreaming about something?"

"No," she lied, struggling to break from his grasp, avoiding his eyes.

"Kikome!" he said loudly, causing her eyes to finally meet his. "Kikome. Trust me a little."

She gave him the same expression of insurmountable regret and sorrow he had seen the day before.

"I…dreamt about Aoshi. The same sensation…his kodachi…piercing through my shoulder. There was fire…crimson all around. And in the midst of it all, his unrelenting green eyes. So cold," she added bitterly.

Saitou brought the slender figure to his chest, embracing her, soothing her. She relaxed for a moment, then stiffened.

"Saitou…don't sleep with me."

He had been expecting it. "Kikome, it doesn't matter—"

Kikome pushed him away and averted her eyes from his gaze. "No. Go away."

She crawled under the blankets and turned away from him, leaving him to stare in contemplation at her back.

Saitou stood up to change into his uniform, no bitterness in his heart. He knew what she was doing, driving him away, afraid to hurt him again. He would respect her useless whims for now. The only concern he had was leaving her here alone.

He left the room without another word, stopping by Chou's room. Saitou barged in without knocking.

"Chou," he said, standing over him.

Chou snored loudly in return.

Saitou kicked him in the stomach, somewhat aggravated.

Chou bolted up quickly, finally awake. He saw Saitou and frowned.

"Saitou, what do you want?! It's like…" he glanced at the clock, "three in the morning! We got here at midnight! Let me sleep a little, would you?"

"Go back to sleep later," Saitou said condescendingly, "but I need you to do me a favor."

"As if I haven't done enough 'favors' for you over the last three weeks," Chou grumbled.

"I need you to look over Kikome for me,"

"What? Can't you do that yourself? Besides, we're going to be busy here, and I don't have time to babysit someone—"

"When you're not working," Saitou said impatiently, "take care of her. Make sure she's not collapsing from pain or something."

"Like I said, aren't you going to be with her after work?"

Saitou pursed his lips. "I'm not going to be around that much."

Chou didn't press the topic. "Fine, fine, whatever. I'll do it. Besides, you're just going to threaten me with my acquittal if I refuse."

"It's not your acquittal this time," Saitou said, leaving. "It's your life."

*************

Miyuki burst into Kikome's room jubilantly.

"Kikome-san!" she said in a singing voice. "You're back! I missed you—"

She stopped short upon seeing the lovely woman, who was in the middle of changing.

"Kikome-san, what happened to your arm?" Miyuki asked in horror.

Bandages dipped in red were strewn across the floor, and Miyuki saw the gruesome state that presided over Kikome's shoulder. It was oozing blood between the stitches, which weakly tied together the two ends of a lengthy cut on her shoulder blade.

"It's nothing," she said, turning away and bandaging up the shoulder cumbersomely. "It's been a while, Miyuki-chan."

Miyuki strode over to her and took a good look at Kikome's face.

"Kikome-san…what happened when you were gone?" she asked worriedly. "You've…changed."

Kikome gave a dark look that sent shivers down Miyuki's spine. A smirk crept to her deep red lips.

"Is that so?"

Miyuki silently tied the ribbons of a lighter yukata around Kikome's waist, anxious. What had happened? Why did so smile so coldly? This wasn't the Kikome-san that she knew from before.

She had lost a lot of weight. The kimonos fit loosely, and Miyuki was shocked at how much she could tie the obi around Kikome's waist.

There was a loud knock on the door.

"Come in," Kikome said in her icy voice.

"Hi, Nato-san." A man with incredible broom-like hair entered the room.

"Chou-san. Good morning."

"Just checking up on you."

"Did Saitou tell you to do that?" Kikome scoffed as Miyuki tied her hair into an elegant bun. "There's no need to worry and obscure your work effort."

"Sheesh, Nato-san, you can rely on us men a bit more," Chou said honestly.

Kikome, a finished product of Miyuki's hands, turned to face him.

"What makes you think that?" she asked coldly.

Chou looked impressed, ignoring her chilly tone. "Wow, you look beautiful. No wonder Saitou likes you so much."

Miyuki frowned. What an unrefined man.

Kikome's eyes grew narrow. "Oh, that's why he enjoys my presence?"

"Eh…I don't think that's the main reason," Chou said quickly, noticing his error. "But, er, you look much better than you did yesterday! Is your arm okay?"

"It's fine," Kikome answered. "Thank you, Miyuki-chan."

"My pleasure," Miyuki replied nervously, feeling the same prickling sensation of fear that she felt when she first met Kikome-san. The same darkness, a drowning atmosphere, an icy pride. Untouchable.

Loud voices convened in the hallway, and Miyuki could discern the receptionist's panicky tone.

"Nato-san is tired!" he said. "Leave her alone—"

The door burst open and a group of men entered the room.

"Are you Nato Kikome?" the leader of the group, a lanky man with sharp glasses asked.

Kikome pushed Miyuki back protectively. "And what of it?"

He approached her.

"Nato Kikome, no, Sokusai," he said professionally, "you are to be restrained at police headquarters for the assassination of Takashi Hoshu. Please leave with us quietly."


	34. Goddess

**Chapter 32: Goddess**

_It's only love, it's only pain. It's only fear, that runs through my veins. It's all the things you can't explain, that make us human._

_**--"Human." Civil Twilight**_

*************

Chou burst into Saitou's office, out of breath.

"Saitou!" he said urgently. "You've got to get back to the hotel."

"What's wrong?" Saitou asked calmly, organizing his desk.

"These government officials suddenly showed up in Nato-san's room, and they said that they were going to arrest her!"

Saitou whirled around. "What?! What for?"

"The assassination of Takashi Hoshu, that old fart of a doctor back in Kyoto! Her dad or something, he was killed yesterday! They're blaming her for it because Kawaji said she had a motive."

"That's impossible, we just arrived yesterday."

"Well, obviously…wait…she left in the morning…to get Yukishiro Tomoe's diary, didn't she? During that time span…"

Saitou hesitated. What Chou said was true. It certainly was enough time. Did Kikome really kill Takashi? If so, why didn't she tell him? And all the strain she was feeling the day before…it couldn't have all been simply from travelling, right?

Doubt crept into his mind. He brushed it aside resolutely, heading for the door.

"We're going back."

"Of course!" Chou followed him, but upon arriving at the street, they encountered a massive crowd of people all preparing for the festival.

"It's going to take a while to get back…"

Saitou cursed under his breath. Just when he needed it most, time was his worst enemy.

*************

"Kikome-san!" Miyuki cried, forcibly held back by one of the soldiers.

"Don't move, Miyuki-chan," Kikome said calmly, staring at the face in front of her.

The leader of the group had pinned Kikome onto the floor, chuckling evilly.

"So this is the infamous Sokusai? What a joke. Nothing more than an arrogant beauty," he said. "I told you to come along quietly and nothing would happen."

"No, this would've just run its same course back at the police station, right?" Kikome answered in the same serene tone. "I'd rather stay here."

"Haughty bitch. You won't be so calm after I'm through with you."

He proceeded to remove the robes from Kikome's shoulders.

"Kikome-san!" Miyuki screamed.

The man stopped to look at her. "Hm, who's this? You're not bad looking either. You men want her?" he asked his soldiers.

He suddenly grunted in pain as Kikome kneed him in the stomach.

"I don't particularly care what you do with me," she said coldly, "but keep her out of this. She has nothing to do with me."

The official slapped her across the face. "Watch the way you speak to me, you bastard."

Her dark eyes gleamed unnaturally upon hearing the last insult.

"Besides," the official continued, "you, girl, why do you care so much about this woman anyway? Don't you know who she is?"

Miyuki looked at him apprehensively. "She's Kikome-san. There's nothing else to know!"

He laughed boisterously. "Ah, how deluded you are! This woman here is a highly wanted assassin back from the Bakamatsu, the fearful Sokusai. Surely you've heard of her?"

Miyuki felt a deadweight drop in her stomach. Part of her knew the danger that Kikome-san posed long ago, the other part refused to believe it.

"It's true, Miyuki-chan," Kikome said tranquilly. "So run away. Now, it's quite clear that she knew nothing about me. Let her go."

"You're in no position to order me around, woman."

"She's the daughter of the inn owner. You wouldn't want to cause a public scandal, would you?"

"The streets are surrounded by the police, since you're a highly dangerous individual to the government," the man said triumphantly. "But still, I'd like to avoid civilian casualties…escort her outside, men."

"Wait, Kikome-san…"

"Just go. No need to stay with someone who scares you more than the people around you."

Miyuki opened her mouth to retort, but no sound came out as the soldiers began to drag her away.

"Now, then, to have a bit of fun," the official said maliciously, untying Kikome's obi.

She heaved a sigh, almost bored.

"Say, when did Takashi die?"

"As if you don't know! You killed him, after all. We found his body late yesterday afternoon. I rushed over to Tokyo to find his murderer!"

"Why are you so eager to claim revenge?"

"Because Takashi-sama is my benefactor! He got me my position in the government, introduced me to my wife, helped my build my name in Japan!"

"Corrupt like every government official then."

Kikome's dark eyes closed. "Oh. Well, looks like you ran out of time."

"What?"

"You're too filthy to actually lay a hand on me," Kikome said with the same cold smirk that chilled Miyuki to the bone. "He's here."

"Who are you talking about—?"

The door burst open and fell broken to the ground as three figures raced into the room. Miyuki's heart rose in relief as she recognized Fujita-san's profile. About to call out his name, she stopped as she watched in horror the scene.

Fujita-san's amber gold eyes gleamed furiously as he yanked the official off of Kikome, slamming him against the wall.

"Who are you?!" the injured man roared as he stood up to retaliate, grabbing his gun with one hand.

It flew into the air with one swipe of Fujita's sword.

An agonizing scream filled the air as the government leader fell to his knees, trying to hold the stump of his arm to assuage the pain.

"Saitou!" a stout man said reprovingly. "That's enough."

Fujita, no, Saitou ignored him and approached Kikome instead.

"About time," she said as he helped her sit up. "I sent Chou a long time ago."

"Sorry," he replied, replacing the cloth over her bare shoulders and retying the obi. The fury in his eyes were undiminished, but he controlled himself. "There was some traffic. Are you all right?"

"You seem to be asking that a lot lately. I'm fine."

"Unlike that girl there," Saitou said, his gold eyes meeting Miyuki's.

"Let her go," he ordered the men restraining her.

They looked at each other uncertainly.

"I thought I told you to leave her alone a long time ago," Kikome's soft voice said, her face turned away from them. An immense pressure filled the room as her murderous intent accelerated. She tilted her head slightly, and Miyuki's legs failed her as she saw Kikome's onyx eyes.

Such depth.

The men released her immediately.

The stout man in the corner piped up. "Men, reassemble at the headquarters. I'll address the situation here."

They nodded and filed out of the room obediently. Curious onlookers began gathering outside, shocked at the blood-splattered walls and the mortified man writhing on the floor.

"Chou, get him to a doctor," the solid man told the broom-head. "He might die of blood loss at this rate."

"He deserves it," Chou muttered under his breath, grabbing the wounded man indelicately and leaving amidst his screams.

"Now, Sokusai, what's the meaning of this?"

"What do you mean?" Kikome asked cruelly. "Weren't you the one who ordered him to detain me?"

"Goodness, no!" he stuttered. "I—"

"Kawaji-san, let's not put up any facades. You aren't fond of me, and I can't say I enjoy your presence either. But to actually send someone to arrest me after the Shishio incident? And he was a creeper at that. That's a bit low."

"I simply suggested that you had a motive!" Kawaji roared. "I never issued an order for your arrest. The fool simply scrambled to Tokyo to find you on his own! I had to follow him at full speed in order to prevent a catastrophe."

"Terrorizing a completely innocent hotel staff isn't a catastrophe at all," Kikome replied coolly.

"Well, it wouldn't have been a catastrophe if you had protected yourself! What's wrong? Aren't you the incredible assassin of the Bakamatsu? Why did you need Saitou's protection?"

Her mouth opened furiously. Saitou decided to intervene before the argument escalated any further.

"Well, to clear things up, you really didn't kill Takashi, did you?"

She returned with an incredulous look.

"I was with you all day. That's impossible."

"When you went to get the diary…"

"Saitou, I'm incapable of killing a fly right now," she said sullenly. "No matter how much I hated him, it was impossible for me to get to his place, assassinate him, and be back in time to leave to Tokyo. Besides, I would have told you if I did."

Saitou gave her an appraising sort of look.

"You don't trust me," she said with narrowed eyes.

"No," Saitou said slowly, "I do."

"Liar."

Kikome stood up and addressed Miyuki. "So now you know who I am. If you're scared, you don't have to come find me in the morning everyday. Go away."

Miyuki looked at her, torn between hurt and fright, and retreated from the room. Her mind was in a flurry as she rushed to tell her father what had happened, as her heart debated whether she should avoid the terrifying woman and her bloodcurdling smile for the rest of her stay.

*************

"She was quite scared," Kikome said dryly after Kawaji departed. She touched her cheek as it began to swell slightly. The bastard had slapped her?

Saitou sighed. "And you weren't?"

"No."

"Kikome, couldn't you at least _pretend_ to be a bit frightened?" said Saitou exasperatedly.

He was irritated with her indifferent behavior after the encounter, her nonchalant attitude after being assaulted. What if he hadn't made it in time? The incredible fool…

"And what?" she retorted. "Come crying to you, trembling in vulnerability? I'm not that type of woman."

"Kikome—"

"And you want to ask why I refuse to tell Kawaji about my wounds," she continued in a tirade. "It's because I don't need his pity. I don't _want_ his pity, or anyone else's for that matter. That includes you."

He grabbed her and pushed her against the wall.

"My pity?" he said with a merciless smirk. "You seriously think that's what I'm giving you right now? What a joke. The only person giving pity is yourself, wallowing in your helplessness, your lost ability to fight. You're simply putting up a front, staying strong, not bothering to control your _ki_, frightening people with your killing will. You think I can't see through you?"

Saitou pressed his hand over her mouth, choking off her response.

"If you're so unafraid of being defiled," he said frostily, "why don't you let me do the honors? Perhaps it'd wake you up a little."

He kissed her fiercely, seeking only physical touch. His emotions didn't run as high as before; he wasn't expecting any progress in advancing his relationship with her. All Saitou wanted was to teach her a lesson, to humble this unbelievably conceited woman. To let her know how much he had restrained himself.

He could feel Kikome cringe, trying to push him aside. He continued his pursuit, hand bringing down the sleeve that that he had replaced moments earlier, caressing the marble skin over her collarbones, avoiding the bandages around her injured arm.

Saitou began to unwind the cloth belted around her waist. Kikome immediately began to resist, hands pushing frantically against his chest. No sound escaped from her lips; he made sure that she could focus on nothing except for breathing while kissing him. Her inexperience aided his endeavor. His hands touched her muscled stomach, up her smooth back only to meet bandages at his fingertips. She still bound her chest even in a yukata?

Kikome suddenly mustered up enough strength to shove him away from her. He backed off, deeming his lesson well-taught.

"I…get it already," she said, staring at the floor, gasping for air.

"Do you?" he asked silkily, slipping his hand down her back that was quite exposed to him as she was doubled over to breathe.

She jerked spasmodically. So sensitive.

"Stop it," she said, panicky.

Saitou could see the fear in her eyes, contrasting so much from the smooth, cold look she had had when she looked at the government idiot.

"So now you understand?" he asked pitilessly as she brought the clothes over her shoulders awkwardly.

She nodded vigorously, inching away. Perhaps he had gone too far.

"Hopefully you learned your lesson. You thought I wasn't able to touch you like this?"

"I…trusted you enough not to."

He scoffed. "Men lose reason when they're around you."

"You're not the same as them," she said, eyes averted. "When you approach me that way…I feel fear."

He touched her cheek gently. "What kind of fear?"

"I…don't know."

"I think I do. You feel the fear of losing yourself, of succumbing to your desires. I incite the lust inside of you, I suppress the Sokusai you so carefully wrought to have an emotionless appearance. I make you human."

"What are you implying?" she said agitatedly.

He gave a satisfied smirk. "I'm implying that you're in love with me."

Her gaze fell slightly. "Don't get ahead of yourself. I'll just cause you more pain."

*************

A week passed, and Saitou had not seen Kikome over the time span. They weren't avoiding each other; the Yukishiro scheme had been blown out of proportion, and Saitou was insanely busy. He was scarcely at his office, instead on site and interrogating.

Only a few days earlier, he had come into contact with Battousai's group. He wasn't particularly perturbed by it; the encounter was inevitable. Luckily, Kikome wasn't with him to see the wounds that Saitou sustained. They were light, but she would have worried incessantly over them.

The group had not asked about her. There was so much confusion, with the supposed death of the Kamiya girl, that no one had inquired about her well-being. Not that Saitou minded; with so much chaos, there was nobody to inform Shinomori about their existence.

Kikome had replied nonviolently to Saitou's conclusion about her emotions, surprisingly enough. She seemed to recognize them herself, but was unwilling to say so aloud, and thus blamed his arrogance for his assumption. Pain? It wasn't pain, it was more like trouble. Saitou didn't mind her response. He'd clear up the situation in Tokyo, then turn to his more personal affairs. The unexpected progress had made him slightly optimistic.

Saitou sat down in his office, Chou plopping down in a chair next to him.

"I am exhausted!" Chou complained loudly. "I've been running around for ages."

Saitou flipped through the packet of papers that Chou gave him.

"This isn't enough," he said, tossing them at Chou's face. "Go out and find some more information."

"What?!"

"I can't convict anyone with this. There isn't enough evidence."

As Chou began to open his loud mouth in retaliation, the door burst open as two poorly disguised figures walked in.

"Get your order of soba right here!"

Saitou stared, unimpressed. "It's the Kamiya brat and the girl from the Aoiya."

"You guessed right away?" they said simultaneously in shock, removing their disguises.

"Well, it doesn't matter." Saitou waved his hand towards them. "Go away. I don't have time to deal with petty matters."

"I knew it, we'll just have to do this by force—"

The door opened again as chief entered.

"Lieutenant Fujita, you have guests."

Saitou's eyes narrowed upon seeing the people entering. Takani Megumi, and…

Well, it wasn't unanticipated, since the Aoiya girl was here, but seeing Shinomori Aoshi's face was still an unpleasant surprise nevertheless. As the chief left the room, Saitou stood up to talk.

"So then…what do you all want?" Saitou asked. Shinomori's eyes never left his. "I don't have time to waste."

"Where is Yukishiro Enishi right now?" the Kamiya boy demanded.

"I have no reason to tell you. Go home."

"We're not asking you to give us the information for free," Yahiko said angrily. "We have some info too—"

"What, something along the lines of 'Kamiya Kaoru is actually alive'?"

"How did you know?!"

Saitou gestured to the papers strewn over the adjacent table. "We found some impressive documents listing Kamiya Kaoru's physical features, and grouped with the Iwanbo puppet we acquired, it wasn't very hard to piece one and one together."

"Then why haven't the police done anything about it?" Takani Megumi said evenly.

"The search for Yukishiro Enishi takes priority over the life of one girl. Those are the conditions we're working under."

"That's such a stupid reason!" said the Makimachi girl.

"Fine, fine," Saitou said, striding away. "I'll look for her while I can, you guys just leave…"

"No way, that's not good enough!"

Yahiko looked at Saitou intently. "How about this, if you tell us where Yukishiro Enishi is, you can leave the search for Kaoru to us. Then you can focus on finding Enishi with a clear conscience."

"In other words, I can abandon the search for her."

"Yeah. Kaoru's our friend, we'll do anything to find her."

"Fine," Saitou said, sitting down on the couch. He was exhausted. "On the condition that you stop bothering me, I'll accept. Now…"

*************

Aoshi stood by a window, barely listening to Saitou's explanation. Seeing him had more of an impact that Aoshi had anticipated. Seeing him had made him think of Kikome.

Was she dead? The hateful way with which Saitou gazed at him was apparent; he harbored a grudge for her death, and he seemed like a wolf that would rip him to shreds the moment the others left the room.

The door opened again for the third time, and a slim profile appeared in the shadow of the dark hallway.

"Saitou! They told me you were actually in today," a beautifully familiar voice said from the hallway. "About time, you've been out all week. I have something to talk to you about—"

The figure came into view, and stopped short upon coming into view.

Aoshi's green eyes widened upon seeing her. She stared at him in surprise. Her dark eyes gleamed as her crimson lips parted into a smirk. She looked stunning. Dressed in a black yukata with a red obi tied around her waist, accentuating her slender figure, and her hair put up into an elegantly woven bun, she was like a goddess. Perfection at its finest.

"My ability to read _ki_ must have really deteriorated. I couldn't sense your visitors at all, Saitou." Kikome gave a sigh. "Well then, how pleasant to see you again, Aoshi."


	35. Release

**Chapter 33: Release**

"_Just because I'm losing doesn't mean I'm lost. Doesn't mean I'll stop. Doesn't mean I'll cross."_

_**--"Lost." Coldplay**_

*************

"I just came to drop this off," Kikome said, placing a worn-out book on the desk, avoiding Aoshi's startled eyes.

"What is it?" Saitou asked.

"Yukishiro Tomoe's diary, remember? I thought it'd might help if you needed to convince her brother or something."

"Hey, Kaoru-san asked us to get that, but we couldn't find it!" Misao said. "How'd you get it?"

Kikome ignored Misao and took a step back, hand on the doorknob. "I'll just come back when there isn't any vermin around."

Aoshi reached out and grabbed her. Saitou observed Aoshi's grateful and awestruck expression with disdain. He remembered that Aoshi probably had never seen her in a kimono, in all her womanly grace…and not to mention that Kikome looked amazing in black.

"You're alive…" Aoshi breathed.

"Don't touch me," she snarled, snapping his hand away, breathing labored. Upon closer inspection, her complexion seemed worse than when Saitou saw her last. He highly doubted she had gone to see a doctor like she promised.

Aoshi looked taken back, but withdrew his hand cautiously.

"Surprised?" she said in a cold tone. "Or disappointed to see me alive?"

The Makimachi girl raced forward and, with much effort due to Kikome's height, hit her as hard as she could across the face. The loud slap rang throughout the room.

"How can you talk like that?" she yelled. "Aoshi-sama has been meditating this entire month because of your 'death!' And you can't even bother to come by and tell him that you're alive?! You bit—"

Aoshi pulled her back by the collar.

"Stop it, Misao."

"Aoshi-sama!"

"Don't interfere in matters that you don't understand, little girl," Kikome said, her _ki_ once again rising in anger and annoyance. "This doesn't concern you." She touched her cheek gingerly. "I seem to be getting slapped a lot lately…"

She returned her unwavering gaze to him. "So you've been meditating? Penitent, I hope."

Her egotism seemed appropriate when she was speaking so condescendingly to Aoshi. Saitou watched the drama with no little satisfaction.

"…How is your arm?"

She gripped it instinctively. "It's fine. Not that you would care."

She looked around the room. "You're here because Kenshin asked you to come? It's a bit early for me to be seeing you. I was hoping you'd be suffering a bit more, but it turns out you're actually up and running after only a month. Looks like my death didn't really matter much to you."

Her breathing was growing harsher, and she winced slightly at her shoulder. Her cheeks alternated between a deathly pale and an unnatural rosy flush.

Saitou stood up, alarmed, and placed the back of his hand on her forehead. Her bangs were damp with sweat, and her skin was scorching, too hot for her normally cooler temperature.

"You haven't been to a doctor, have you?" Saitou said in a superior voice. "And you probably haven't been eating again."

Kikome brushed his hand aside. "I did eat. I'm fine; stop worrying so much. Don't get in the way, I need to talk with—"

A coughing fit cut off her mid-way through her sentence. Saitou whipped her off her feet, carrying the light woman to the stairs.

"Oh, damn, we haven't seen her in so long, her condition's probably a lot worse," Chou said, leaping to his feet and heading for the door.

"It's all right, you don't have to find a doctor. After all, there's one right here." Saitou nodded to Megumi. "Even if we're not your allies, you'll treat her, right?"

"Of course!" Megumi followed the two of them to the inner room where Saitou crashed when he was too lazy to go find a hotel.

Saitou laid Kikome gently on the bed. Her coughing had subsided, but she was having difficulty breathing.

"I'll take care of her," Megumi said, sitting down next to the bed and opening the kit she brought with her. She stared pointedly at the door.

"What?" Saitou said exasperatedly.

"For goodness' sake, I'm going to be removing her clothes! Have some courtesy and stand outside like a gentleman!"

Saitou rolled his eyes and left the room, reentering the office with the remaining three.

"Is she okay?" Yahiko asked worriedly.

"Her condition's been like that ever since she woke up a week ago," Saitou answered calmly, lighting a cigarette and leaning against a wall.

"A week ago?" Aoshi repeated. "But it's been a month since…"

"She was in a coma-like state three weeks after the incident." Saitou held his sword lovingly in the palm of his hand. "Ever since she woke up, her arm's been acting strangely. The wound won't close, so it's like she's in a constant state of blood loss. The slightest physical exertion exhausts her. Her stomach wounds also haven't healed well, as she still seems to be having problems eating and can't keep any food down."

Saitou watched with vicious contempt as Aoshi's features reflected his guilt.

"You should know that it's only because these two kids are here that I'm not trying to kill you right now," Saitou said silkily. "You came the closest to killing her than anyone else. You can congratulate yourself."

"It's not like I meant to hurt her to that extent!" Aoshi replied harshly.

"What, running a blade through her isn't wishing her ill?"

"I…don't know what happened to me that moment. It was…a spur of the moment action…"

Saitou pointed his blade at Aoshi's neck.

"Oh, I definitely understand. Running you through right now would be a spur of the moment action too."

"Stop it, Saitou," Kikome's voice said from behind.

"Nato-san!" Megumi said crossly, running behind her. "I'm not done treating you; your stitches are ripping apart and the wound is reopening! You've got to stay still for a few moments!"

"Sorry," Kikome said, her gaze never wavering from the two men. "I just felt Saitou's _ki_ rise…and got a bit worried."

For which one of them? Saitou didn't voice the question aloud, considerate of her physical state.

"Let Takani finish stitching you up, all right?"

"Don't do anything rash, Saitou."

"I won't."

She looked at him anxiously.

"Kikome, this is exactly why I didn't want you to meet him again," said Saitou edgily. "Why do you still worry about him, after all that he's done—"

"I'm not worried about him, I'm worried about you!" she said angrily. "You're wounded, aren't you? And you probably haven't slept for days because you've been so busy. I was just afraid that another fight would get you hurt even more! But if you don't need my concern, then my apologies, I'll just go back upstairs and attend my own problems like you want me to."

She whirled around and marched upstairs with Megumi, slamming the door shut.

"She's pissed," Yahiko said matter-of-factly.

Saitou scoffed, though his heart fell a little lighter. "She'll get over it. It was for her own good anyway." He blew out a breath of smoke.

"Now," he said darkly to Aoshi, "let's clear a few things up, as to why you're here, and what you want to do in regards to Kikome. Whether or not she wants to see you is up to her. I won't stop you two if she wants to talk."

"You're quite protective of her."

Saitou looked at him loftily. "She needs some protection when people like you are around."

*************

Her arm hurt like hell. It always seemed to be bleeding, always seemed to be burning.

She was already used to the pain, barely wincing when Megumi pulled out the old stitches and made new ones.

"What in the world happened to your shoulder?" she asked, flabbergasted.

"Ask Aoshi," Kikome replied curtly.

"He did this?"

"Yeah."

Megumi shook her head as she finished the stitches. "There, just keep the bandages on and apply this balm everyday, and it'll heal. Slowly, but it will."

Megumi sighed. "But Nato-san, your arm will never heal to its old potential. The blade pierced straight through; the abrasion in your muscle will never heal completely. You…might not be able to fight with a sword again."

Kikome closed her eyes. She already had suspected something like this, but hearing aloud still made an impact. She was going to stay like this forever? Useless, always depending on Saitou for help, protection.

What was she now? A lost soul in the middle of nowhere. No position in the world. She couldn't fit among the women, no matter how much she dressed up; her masculine streak always shone through with her conceitedness. Nor could she return to the glorious position of being Sokusai, with her arm incapable of handling the slightest strain. So where did she belong?

She was lost, like a child.

Kikome opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by a sickeningly familiar sensation. Her stomach lurched unnaturally; she was going to throw up.

Megumi noticed immediately and grabbed a bucket from behind her stool. All she retched was blood.

"You're not eating?!" Megumi said, wiping away the red liquid.

"I did," Kikome said dryly. "I already threw my lunch up. There's no point in me eating, really. I can't keep anything down."

"It doesn't matter," Megumi said shortly. "You still have to eat. It's important to at least try and gain some nutrients."

Kikome sighed.

There was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Megumi demanded, still stitching up Kikome's wound. She was doing a hell of a better job than Takashi did.

"It's me," Aoshi's voice said from behind the wall. "I want to talk."

Kikome gazed at the closed door. Did she really want to see him? In fact, did she even care anymore?

Over the last week, she had realized how much she needed Saitou. Never seeing him had a detrimental effect on her attitude and her physical condition; she was constantly annoyed, and only ate when she pressed herself to. She hardly thought about Aoshi. No anger, simply irritation. She didn't care about it anymore.

"Come in," Kikome said.

The door creaked as he entered the room.

"Er…should I leave?" Megumi asked awkwardly.

"Please," Kikome said. "It'll just be for a moment."

Megumi nodded understandingly and left the room.

There was a moment's silence as Aoshi looked at her shoulder.

"Sorry."

"Well, it was enough to make me…what was the word you used before…useless? Congratulations."

Aoshi's expression of pained guilt was enough to satisfy Kikome's dying anger. She gave him a look of mixed expressions.

"I'm joking. I've calmed down, so I'm not as snappy as I was…you don't need to apologize. I'll get over it," she said.

She exhaled slowly. "I'm less angry with you than I expected to be, honestly. Ever since I woke up…I've been more worried about where I was in my life instead of spending time being bitter about you. Wondering what I was going to do…I mean, I can't keep clinging to Saitou for the rest of my life, can I ?"

Aoshi looked at her blankly. "Why not?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I'm too indebted to him."

She closed her eyes. "I don't know what you came in to talk about, but I don't really care. Consider this 'forgive and forget.' We no longer have anything to do with each other anymore."

Aoshi closed his eyes in resignation. "I assumed as much. I came to apologize, true, but I also came here to say thank you. For waking me up, for bringing me back to the Aoiya. And…for the time we spent together in the mountains."

He gave a bitter smile. "Many times I have wished over and over again that I had met you sooner, not in a turbulent time of my life."

"Fate is cruel," she said, looking away from him. "How else do you think we ended up as twisted as we are now?"

Aoshi laughed softly. "It's always like that."

Kikome heard a rustling of cloth, knowing that Aoshi gave her a bow.

"Thank you, Sokusai…and goodbye."

Kikome unwillingly let tears fall from her closed ebony eyes as she remembered him using the same phrase in departure as before. A conglomeration of emotions was welling up in her chest.

"Goodbye, Aoshi."

The door clicked shut, leaving Kikome alone with her tears. She was finally released from Aoshi's shadow, no longer chained to the memories of their intoxicating happiness in that one half year. She was letting him go. They were parting ways.

*************

Saitou was waiting when Aoshi came out of the room.

"Calm as always, aren't you?" Aoshi said to him as he approached. "You weren't worried I might take advantage of her without you there?"

Saitou scoffed. "Someone as reserved as you would never do something as rude as that. I'm the only person that would."

Aoshi chuckled. "True."

"Given that you're unscathed, she's forgiven you then?"

"…Yes. We've let each other go. Only figments of each other's pasts now…no emotions remaining."

"That's a lie," Saitou said coolly, "but I'll attempt to believe it. You'll leave her alone?"

"Unless she wants to see me," Aoshi said with a nod. "But I'm doubting that."

Saitou looked at him levelly. "Just because she has forgiven you doesn't me I'm quite as easy-going."

"I know."

"Stay on your guard," Saitou said, patting Aoshi's shoulder and ascending the stairs. "You never know when I might feel like killing you in retribution."

He heard Aoshi scoff as he left, following Makimachi and Yahiko out of the office, pocketing Yukishiro Tomoe's diary. Saitou walked into Kikome's room just as Megumi was handing her some bottles of medicine and instructing her on when to take them.

"Nato-san, you _have_ to take these as I direct. This one in the morning, this one at night, and _don't refuse to take them_. You have to eat as well, no matter how uncomfortable it is. Drink lots of fluids, and rest easy. No physical activity for perhaps a month. Your shoulder will close up, and you'll regain use of it. Until then, no swordplay."

Megumi shut the case to her kit. "Nato-san, many people view you and Ken-san as super humans, but to us doctors, you're only normal humans with enhanced reflexes and nerves. Don't overestimate your physical condition."

Kikome smiled. "I know. Thank you, Takani-san."

Megumi stood up to leave.

"I'll send the fee over to your clinic sometime," Saitou said as she passed.

"Tch, I don't need something like that. Think of this as payment for helping Ken-san out the other night. And it would do you good to stop smoking so much," she added.

Kikome laughed as the door shut behind Megumi.

"You seem to be better," Saitou remarked, sitting down in the chair Megumi vacated.

"Somewhat," Kikome agreed. "I was in horrid health this past week."

"Why?"

Kikome frowned. "Because I was running around trying to find you. But you were never here."

"Why?" Saitou asked again.

"No particular reason," Kikome shrugged indifferently.

"Tch, you're still so on guard towards me."

She smiled enigmatically. "So?"

He stroked her cheek. "You can rely on me some more."

"As if I don't enough."

"I don't mind."

Saitou pressed his lips to hers gently. She surprisingly returned the kiss.

"Hm?" Saitou broke off the kiss, bemused. "That's a first."

"What?"

"Kissing me back."

She grimaced. "I did not."

"Want to try again?"

"Please don't."

Saitou sighed and unwillingly leaned back in his seat. "So what did you want to come talk to me about?"

"I just wanted to know where you were on the Enishi case."

Saitou frowned. "You're so boringly professional. It doesn't concern you."

"Because you're worried I'll be a liability to you if I did get involved."

"Exactly."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Oh well. I'm coming along anyway."

"No."

"Saitou—"

"There is no guarantee that I'll be able to protect you if I'm distracted during a fight. You know how low people can get to win."

"I'll be fine."

Saitou's frown deepened. "I don't want you to go. Seriously."

"…I'll rely on you for this?"

"That's not what I meant about relying on me."

"Saitou, why does it matter so much? I'm probably not even going to be fighting, Yukishiro Enishi isn't so weak of a person as to attack someone he doesn't even know."

"Forget it, Kikome. You're not coming."

Saitou stood up, irritated. "I'll see you later, I have work to do."

He shut the door behind him, not noticing the expression on Kikome's face. Her eyes gleamed unnaturally in light of a sunbeam as they reflected a mixture of pain and anger.

*************

There was a reason why Kikome had told Aoshi that she couldn't cling to Saitou for the rest of her life.

The sun shone brightly as she looked at the window, deciding to test her luck. She exerted her _ki_ and sought for Saitou's _ki_. He was downstairs in his office; he was annoyed. Sokusai was gradually regaining her abilities.

It was only the second floor. She could jump.

Kikome opened the window and looked at the ground, counting the rhythm as people moved under her. She leapt out gracefully and ignored the amazement of onlookers. She had been in horrid health the last week because of her own training and physical exertion. Sokusai was slowly, but surely, creeping back to gain her dominance.

Her arm seemed better. After Megumi's treatment, it was easier to function with her right hand. Kikome glanced back at Saitou's office.

She could sense what Saitou wanted her to do. He deemed the injury on her arm appropriate, removing her from the league of the strong and returning her to the weak group of females who did nothing but please their husbands.

But she could not deny the growing feelings that she harbored for Saitou, trumping the lingering ones she had for Aoshi. Saying farewell to Aoshi was expected, needed, but even after ruining her life to this degree, her memories with Aoshi kept flooding back, inundating her mind with the remembrance of blissful joy. Joy that couldn't be achieved with Saitou…with anyone now, for that matter.

Kikome gave a sad smile as she headed back to her hotel.

Once the Enishi affair was cleared up, Kikome would sever her bonds with the past. All of them.

Saying goodbye to Aoshi was one thing.

Being released from Saitou was another.


	36. Final Farewell

**Chapter 34: Decision**

Aoshi wandered into the yard of the Kamiya dojo to see Battousai close the front doors.

"Ah, Aoshi-san," he said genially. "Good afternoon."

Aoshi nodded in return. "Was someone there?"

"Kikome. She just wanted to drop by to check up on us since she heard that we were finished fighting Enishi."

"I see…"

"It's not like she was avoiding you. I told her you were meditating, and she didn't want to bother you. Besides, it seemed like she had somewhere to go."

"Go?" Aoshi looked up at the gathering clouds in the sky. "She'll get caught in the weather…"

Kenshin followed his gaze to the sky.

"Well, she'll be fine. But really, it's a pity, since Tanabata's tomorrow."

"Oh, right."

Aoshi felt slightly disappointed that he had missed Kikome. But what could he expect? They had parted ways. She had no obligation to see him.

If he kept staying in Tokyo, he'd keep seeking after her. It'd be best to depart as soon as he could.

"Kenshin, we'll be leaving today."

"Hm." Kenshin didn't seem surprised. "Well then, you should probably tell Misao-dono…and Kikome as well."

Aoshi scoffed. "I have no right to go see her."

Kenshin shook his head. "It'd be best to tell her what you really want, or you'll never be released from her shadow."

She'd kill him if Aoshi told her what he really wanted. Besides, she had Saitou now.

"Go, Aoshi."

His legs carried him through the doors before Aoshi had time to register what he was doing. The rain came pouring down in dollops, soaking him to the skin. Where to go? What to say?

Where was she? At Saitou's?

It was his best guess, and he ran in the direction, thinking of what he wanted. What had Kenshin sensed? What did Aoshi really long for?

He wanted to bring her back to Kyoto with him.

He loved her to death.

*************

Kikome opened her umbrella over her head as it began to rain. Her heart was calm, her expression serene. She had gone to see Kenshin, to check up on him.

To say goodbye and good luck.

Kenshin wasn't surprised. Was he ever? He could anticipate her thoughts so well. Kikome could help but be jealous of the life he had settled down into. Living with the woman he loved, to finally finish the business behind Battousai and Yukishiro Tomoe.

How Kikome wished to be free as well. But unlike her, Kenshin cared nothing for his title or for his fighting ability.

Kikome gave a bitter smile. She was really too prideful.

The rain pattered against her umbrella. Such morose weather. Well, it was appropriate for what she was about to do.

She had purposely stayed away from Saitou for the last few days, gathering her thoughts and resolution.

With her gained courage, she had regained her physical strength. Her legs no longer ached, and she was able to use Shinsoku as well as she could before. Shukuchi seemed out of bounds. The one day she had tried, her legs had screamed in agony all night. Perhaps she really was only suited for Hiten Mitsurugi.

Kikome gradually approached the police headquarters. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed a familiar figure staring at the doors.

"Aoshi?"

He whirled around, splattering water everywhere.

"Sokusai?"

She laughed. "You're soaked to the bone. Why didn't you bring an umbrella?"

"…I was in a hurry."

"Well, I can't share one with you. Then there would be romantic implications." Kikome shut her umbrella, enjoying the feel of the cool rain soaking her skin.

"You—"

"It's all right. I like the rain."

Kikome glanced up at the window where Saitou's office was.

"Did you come to see him?"

Aoshi smirked. "Why would I want to see _him_? No, I came to see you."

"Even after we agreed that we had nothing to do with each other?"

"Yes. I know I have no right to, but…" he let out a breath. "I'm leaving for Kyoto today."

"Why now?"

"The sooner, the better. I…wanted to tell you."

She gave him a perplexed expression but said nothing.

"Sokusai, no, Kikome," Aoshi continued. "I have no right to see you, to call your name, but I can't leave it like this. I…Kikome, I love you."

Why did he have to say that? Especially now, when she had finally prepared herself to face Saitou…the mere three words rustled her resolution.

"I've loved you since we first met, even when I betrayed you, I love you now. And I am foolish for thinking that perhaps I still have a chance. But…I want you to come back to Kyoto with me."

Her eyes widened at his request. "What?"

"I want you to come back to Kyoto. It's your home, isn't it? Your birthplace. Kikome…I want to spend the rest of my life with you. The same peaceful life we had in the mountains…"

A part of her will tugged at her to accept. To go. To love the man she had loved back in the mountains.

He was the man who had trapped her back in the web of familiar faces. The web of fate. He was the trigger. And she was glad he had brought her back into the cycle. But was that it? Gratitude?

"I…can't."

Aoshi's beautiful green eyes shimmered.

"I can't go back into the past. I'm…sorry."

"Is it because of Saitou?"

Kikome hesitated. He was right. More than anything else, it was Saitou's being that held her back from accepting. Saitou's golden eyes, his ever-present smirk. The protection he connoted, the love he had always held.

"Yes."

"Do…you love him?"

She closed her eyes as the rain clung to her face, dampened her hair. Her heart knew the answer long before her mind was able to register it.

"Yes."

Aoshi sighed. "I thought as much."

"Aoshi…"

"It's all right. I expected it. You…will stay with him then?"

"…No."

"What?"

"I'm…not worthy of someone like Saitou. Someone who has always cared for me, loved me blindly. I've pushed him away so many times on the pretext that I needed to settle my business with you, when all I really felt was a constant unworthiness that clamored inside me."

She opened her eyes, and her vision was blurry. It was the rain.

"I am…really, a disgusting person. I place my pride in front of everything else. Today, I came because I wanted to tell Saitou goodbye, thinking that the reason was that he would never encourage my identity as Sokusai. I…can't stay with him."

"Are you an idiot?"

"Eh?"

"That man…loves you for everything you are. There's no way that he resents Sokusai inside of you. To him, you _are_ Sokusai. He refused to let you fight, to come with us to Enishi's base, because if you got injured, your pathway to healing would be even slower. He's resisted taking full advantage of you because your current weakness isn't you. Kikome…he adores you."

"Aoshi—"

"You told me before. You don't know where you stand in this world. Your place is beside him. I know, now having been rejected, that you two are bound by fate. Cast aside your pride. Embrace your humility. Go to him, and give him the love he has always longed."

"I—"

He placed his lips briefly on hers, his smooth marble lips trailing to her ear as he whispered.

"This is my farewell. I will close up your chapter of the past. That man behind you is your future."

Kikome swiveled around and stared disbelievingly.

Saitou was leaning against a wall, drenched in rain, looking incredibly handsome. Her heart lurched. She hadn't sensed him at all. Had he heard?

He wasn't smiling, but his golden eyes gleamed in an unnatural way that Kikome interpreted as not anger.

There was an untouchable moment as the two of them stared at each other.

"Kikome," Saitou's silky voice said. "Come."

Her body obeyed, her mind temporarily shut down, as she gave into all the desires she had concealed for so long. Kikome leapt into Saitou's open arms and embraced him, linking her arms over his neck and hugging him tightly. Mixed with the cold rain were warm tears; her soul soared as she no longer hid her emotions.

His arms curled around her waist as he supported her weight, refusing to let her feet touch the ground. She touched his cheek, fingers trailing over his skin.

"Take the initiative this time," Saitou smirked.

She kissed him ardently, lovingly, the blood rushing through her veins as her heartbeat accelerated. She could feel his arms tighten, reciprocating her desire.

He broke off the kiss and nuzzled her neck, whispering incoherent words in her ear. Kikome spotted Aoshi walking past them, his eyes closed.

"Aoshi!"

He stopped and turned around. His green eyes revealed his sincerity in bringing the two of them together.

"Thank you."

Aoshi smiled and waved his hand, disappearing into the distance.

Kikome buried her face in Saitou's shoulder, inhaling his smoky scent and letting her tears fall freely. With every spherical droplet, she let out the trouble of her past and her useless resolution to leave Saitou.

She was with him now. This was where she was supposed to be.

*************

The soft patter of the rain beat rhythmically on the roof of the hotel. Kikome laid in her futon, having already taken a shower. Tanabata was tomorrow. Perhaps she'd go with Saitou? If the rain let up…

Saitou emerged from the bath, clad in black robes.

"You seriously live in the richest hotel in Tokyo," he commented, slipping under the covers.

"It is nice," she admitted. "Though I can't say the atmosphere has been entirely welcoming as of late."

Saitou nodded. "You mean after that arresting incident."

"Yeah," Kikome sighed. "Miyuki has been avoiding me."

"Well, after being exposed to your _ki_ like that, it's not surprising."

"You're not helpful in cheering me up."

Saitou nestled his face at her neck, his hand slipping down her robes. "Maybe this will?"

She pushed him away. "No."

"Kikome…"

"I'm not sleeping with you unless we're married."

Saitou's liquid yellow eyes gleamed. "Married?"

"I told you I'm not that loose of a woman."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I figured. What the hell was Shinomori thinking? Someone like you alone with him for half a year…it's enough to drive anyone crazy."

Saitou pushed her on her back. "I'm not as patient as he was."

He leaned in and began to unfasten the belt around her waist.

"Saitou, I'm not going to—"

He cut her off with a fierce kiss, hands sliding under her robes. Her body reacted fitfully to his touch.

"You're so sensitive," he breathed. "Really, I thought you would've had more practice with Shinomori."

"Shut up," she gasped. "Stop—"

"You can't expect me to sit here and do nothing. I've slept with you without touching you for too long. And now that I know your regards towards me, it's all the more beckoning."

He caressed her cheek lightly. "You're food in front of a starving wolf."

Kikome pushed him aside and slipped her robes over her shoulders.

"Don't be stupid," she said haughtily. "I already gave you my conditions."

Saitou cocked his head to one side. "Marriage? Why are you so adamant about it?"

"Because it's a way of binding you to me," she answered. "You're probably more frivolous than you let on. Who knows, even after meeting me again, you've most likely had one or two affairs already."

Kikome saw him wince.

"You have?!"

"Eh…"

She slammed a pillow in his face. "You bastard!"

"Hey, it was when we were both angry with each other, all right? It wasn't anything big—"

Kikome pushed him down and hit him with the pillow again.

"Which is precisely why you have to marry me if we're going to stay together," she said, laying on top of him.

He sighed. "It's just…marriage is so…contract-like."

"What, you're going to run off with some other woman after you're tired of me? Give me a break. It's now or never, Saitou."

He patted her head. "I doubt I'd get tired of you, honestly."

"Are you taking the deal or not?"

"Fine." Saitou brought her closer to him. "Now can I do it?"

"We're. Not. Married. Yet."

Kikome sat up and pushed the pillow at his face. "So get the documents and then I'll consider it."

"Consider it? You're supposed to just—"

There was a knock on the door.

"Hm?" Kikome glanced at the clock, knowing it was quite late. Perhaps it was a neighbor, telling them to shut up.

"Come in," she said.

Miyuki entered the room nervously.

"Miyuki-chan," Kikome said in surprise.

"H-hi," she said. "I…came to apologize."

She looked at Saitou. "But…er…if you're busy, I'll just come by later…you just haven't been in very often, so I never knew when to find you."

"I'm not," Kikome said before Saitou opened his mouth. "Do you need something?"

She didn't mean to be brusque. Seeing Miyuki again reminded Kikome of an incident that she'd rather not remember, and it annoyed her to remember the weakness she felt when she didn't have the strength to push one man off of her.

"I…just wanted to say sorry. About running away after you protected me."

Kikome scoffed. "I didn't do anything."

"But…it was also rude of me to take that man's words to heart. Just because you were Sokusai or some scary assassin doesn't mean you're like that now. So…I should have trusted you instead."

Kikome laughed lightly. "Well, it was also my bad to scare you that much. And I can understand why you avoided me. My past isn't so pure as most other's."

"I don't care! Or at least, I shouldn't have." Miyuki gave her a bow.

"Please accept my apologies, Kikome-san."

"You don't need to apologize. I guess I should be saying thank you for helping me out in the mornings though."

"No, it's my pleasure! So I can come again in the morning from now on?"

"Which will probably only be tomorrow and the next," Saitou said, sitting up. "We're going to Hokkaido."

Kikome turned to him. "What?!" she and Miyuki exclaimed simultaneously.

"I haven't seen you lately, so I didn't get to tell you." Saitou took a pack of cigarettes from off the desk and lit it. "I'm being transferred to Hokkaido in two days. Technically, it was supposed to be tomorrow, but Tanabata's tomorrow so they decided on the day after."

"I'm supposed to go with you?" Kikome said hoarsely.

Saitou lifted an eyebrow. "Well, if you're going to stay with me, then yes."

"But…that's too soon!" Miyuki wailed. "Just when Kikome-san and I are reconciled…"

"If you want to continue helping her, then I'll hire you," Saitou said calmly.

"To do what?" Kikome said incredulously.

"To be your maid."

"That sounds so degrading! No, I don't need a maid! Miyuki doesn't need to be my _servant_." Kikome said the word with loathing.

"I'm not saying she has to, it's her decision—"

"No, I want to!" Miyuki said excitedly. "I'll just help around the house and help Kikome-san, right? That's pretty much the same thing as what I do here, so that's great!"

"See?" Saitou said lazily. "It'll work out."

"You'll really hire me, Saitou-san?"

"I guess so."

"Then I'll go tell my parents!"

"Hey, isn't this a little sudden—" Kikome stopped speaking as Miyuki disappeared from view.

She sighed. "You're going to pay her? Do you even have money?"

"How rude. I'm technically getting a 'promotion' by going to Hokkaido. Besides, you seem to have a limitless supply, so it'll be fine."

He stopped smoking and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She could smell the fresh scent of smoke.

"Want to try?" he said, offering her the cigarette.

"Hell, no."

Saitou chuckled. "Get used to the smell."

Kikome scooted closer to him and laid down on his lap. "I already am."

She brought the blankets over her shoulders. "No funny business."

"Sure, sure. I swear, I'm getting those documents tomorrow and ravaging you as soon as they're approved."

Kikome smirked. "So anxious."

He cradled her face in his hands. "You haven't been waiting for months."

"I suppose."

There was a silence as the two of them simply enjoyed each other's presence.

"Kikome."

"What is it?"

"I'm nine years older than you."

"So?"

"…That doesn't bother you?"

"…Should it?"

"Kikome…"

"Saitou, seriously. Why are you feeling insecure now? Besides, Kenshin's older than Kaoru-san by," Kikome counted silently, "eleven years. So we're better off then they are."

Saitou let out a breath of smoke. "I don't have the secret to eternal youth like you Hiten users do. In ten years, I won't exactly be what you call 'young.'"

"Do I care?"

Kikome touched his face gently. "Besides, if you're going to be my…husband," she winced slightly at the word, "you'll be handsome regardless."

"Hah."

"Saitou, I seriously don't care."

"I know."

"Do you?"

"I was more worried about you caring, so no, not really."

"Then everything's fine."

She nestled back onto his lap and buried her face in his chest.

"I'm going to sleep."

"If you fall asleep there, who knows what I'm going to do to you."

"I trust you."

Kikome heard him scoff weakly and felt him trailing his fingers through her hair. She smiled and closed her eyes, yielding to his touch.

So much had happened. Only the day before, she had felt so insecure, had decided to say goodbye to the man she finally admitted she loved. She had changed today, throwing away her pride for him.

And marriage! She didn't like the idea of it as much as Saitou did, but she wasn't going to risk having some other woman saunter up to him and take him away after Kikome went through so much to finally decide on him.

Master's adamancy to get her married came crawling to her mind. Kikome's smiled widened.

Well, he would be pleased.

Kikome fell asleep to Saitou's metrical stroking and his smoky fragrance. The moonlight crept through the cracks in the curtains, giving the room a pale glow. For the rest of the night, Sokusai slept under a white moon in the arms of the man she loved.


	37. Tangled Web of Fate

**Chapter 35: Tangled Web of Fate**

Two months later, Hokkaido

"Congratulations, Saitou-san."

Saitou took a sip of the sake glass he was holding. "Thank you."

"Really, to be promoted to such a position as the head of the Department of Internal Affairs at such a young age is impressive indeed."

"It's nothing special," Saitou replied silkily to the man in front of him. Saitou couldn't even remember his name…he was the head of Foreign Affairs or something similar.

Saitou hated social gatherings, but after being placed as the head of Internal Affairs, they were hardly avoidable. Such a hassle. His golden eyes scanned the crowd. Now where was she?

"Are you looking for someone, Saitou-san? I can introduce you to the other heads of departments."

So officious. "No, thank you."

"Ah, here we go," the Foreign Affairs head said, ignoring Saitou's reply. "This is Takarai Satoshi. He's in my department, and very well acquainted with the few foreign officials that matter to us."

A young man, dressed in western clothing, approached him, accompanied by three relatively attractive women.

"Takarai, this is Saitou Hajime."

The young man looked impressed. "You mean, the legendary captain of the Shinsengumi?"

Saitou nodded curtly. The government had finally gotten tired of addressing him by a fake name, and had "pardoned" all his "crimes" as Shinsengumi captain. Really, where would they be without him? As if they couldn't pardon him at all…

"Wow, that's amazing," Takarai said. "Alongside with Okita Soushi, right? So young, and so ready to dedicate to political beliefs! Wrong as they were…" he added softly.

Saitou frowned imperceptibly. Such arrogance.

One of the women by Takarai came to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Impressive, indeed," she smiled.

Saitou attempted to move indiscernibly away, only to find his way blocked by another woman.

"I like well-built men like you," the other said simply.

"Please excuse me, ladies, but I'm married."

"There's not a ring on your left hand."

That was because for some particular reason, the marriage documents hadn't been approved. And his would-be wife was adamant that nothing physical happened between them until they were. Besides, where exactly was she? She was angry about him being promoted, true, but to really not come? That was harsh.

"You can have a little fun with them, Saitou-dono," Takarai said encouragingly. "Besides, your wife can't be as beautiful as these women are."

"Actually…"

"Saitou-san, beautiful women aren't meant to be married. Then all they become are haughty and arrogant beings who simply clamor for materialistic things that you need to buy them. Women like these," Takarai gestured to the women surrounding Saitou, "are more pleasing. Fool around with the beautiful, and get married to the homely. They'll serve your domestic needs better. That's a fantastic solution to life."

"So what do you think, Saitou-san?" one of the women simpered. "Care to play?"

"Excuse me," a voice as smooth and cold as ice said behind Saitou. "I'd like to speak with my husband."

Saitou and his companions turned around. Relief washed over him. Finally, some sanity.

Kikome looked splendid. What else was new? Over the last two months they had spent together, he had noticed that she had become, if possible, even more beautiful than before. Saitou had perceived a grace in her step, a subtle lilt in her every motion. She had adapted to wearing feminine apparel, and the cumbersome kimonos that most women walked with drudgery in seemed to melt into Kikome's figure like a part of her skin.

She was dressed in her favorite shade of crimson red, lips painted the same color and hair woven in the same elegant bun that Miyuki enjoyed weaving. A black obi, trailing down behind her in ribbons, was secured tightly around her waist, accentuating her slender silhouette and perfection. Her skin color was slightly paler than the other females, but it was easy to determine who was the winner when it came to looks. So stunning.

Though a faint smile was plastered to her face, Kikome's eyes gave the women around Saitou a hard look as she made her way to him.

"About time, Kikome, I thought you weren't—"

She stepped on his foot with brutal strength, the fake smile still prevalent on her lips. He flinched.

"Damn, woman—"

"I took a little longer to prepare today," she said in her euphonious voice, "because I assumed it would be a rather _important_ event and that I should be here to support you, only to find you _flirting_ with other women and not bothering to tell me where you were, or when to come."

She was…angry. He could sense that much from her well hidden _ki_.

"This is a misunderstanding, Kikome."

The smile grew wider and her eyes winked reciprocally.

"Is. That. So." She pressed her foot down harder with every syllable. Saitou pushed her light body off his foot before she broke it, requiring some effort as her foot seemed to be rooted firmly in place.

"So, Saitou-san…this is your wife?" the Foreign Affairs head asked hesitatingly.

Takarai was goggling at Kikome, who scarcely looked in his direction. She was still glaring daggers at the women, who backed off considerably in the face of greater loveliness.

"Yeah," Saitou said, nonchalantly drawing a arm around Kikome's shoulder. She didn't back away, thankfully, meaning that she was on the way to dissipating her irritation.

Kikome finally drew her attention to the men, asserting her professional duties. She gave an elegant bow, several strands of hair draping over her shoulders.

"I'm Nato Kikome. Please take care of me."

"Takarai Satoshi, at your service," the young man said eagerly, bowing hastily. Just when Saitou thought their heads were about to collide, Kikome moved her head to the left slightly, letting Takarai's pass by her. She straightened up and pretended nothing happened.

"Eh?" Saitou heard Takarai say in confusion.

So the collision was intended, functioning as an ice breaker, giving Takarai a reason to apologize profusely and perhaps offer her a drink. Saitou smirked. A stupid way to pick up women, and futile attempt to lead Kikome away from his side.

Her perception of others' movement had returned back to its apex of ability as Sokusai. In essence, she had recreated her persona of the fearsome assassin of the night, simply clad in ladylike clothing, which made her all the more dangerous. The only injury that had not healed completely since the Shishio affair was her shoulder, which was recovering slowly. Kikome herself was perturbed by the state of her injury, but refused to complain about it, even if it pained. Saitou never pressed the subject.

"Nato Kikome," the director of Foreign Affairs said thoughtfully. "Perhaps I have heard of that name…somewhere…maybe Okubo-kyo mentioned it? But that seems out of place."

Kikome gave a poisonous smile. "I think you're mistaken."

The elderly man looked taken back at her bluntness, but agreed. "Y-yes, I think I must be."

The poison melted to innocence, and she turned to Saitou.

"Well, then, why don't we go get some drinks? Please excuse us, sirs, madams." She gave a refined wave and steered Saitou away from them. Her high societal mask dropped immediately.

"Honestly," she snapped, "what the hell were you thinking, hanging out with big shot heads like them?"

"Because, as of today, I'm something along those lines," Saitou said dryly, leading her over to the drinks and pouring her some sake.

She grimaced and took the glass from him with a nod.

"I know," Saitou said airily. "You hate that I'm getting even more involved with the Meiji government."

"Why shouldn't I be? Ten years ago, they were my enemies. Yours too, you idiot, but you seem to forget things easily."

The two of them slipped away from the crowded ballroom before anymore people attempted to approach them, which seemed quite likely. The couple seemed to draw many eyes.

They arrived in a deserted hallway on the second floor of the building. Kikome sat on the counter of a windowsill, glancing at the scenes unfolding before. Light snow fell to the ground slowly, eventually accumulating to a thin sheet over the roads.

"Damn, it's cold," she said, rubbing her hands together. "We should just go back home."

"Soon…but it'd be rude to my future colleagues if I left without a word."

"Who cares?"

"Kikome," he leaned forward, trapping her against the window, "do stop being bitter."

"No," she said, drinking her glass. Her eyes lit up. "Mm. This is good."

"Is it really?"

"Do you want to try?"

"Sure," Saitou said, kissing her and tasting the sweet apple taste on her soft lips.

Kikome placed her glass on the surface beside her and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Oh," she said, in between kisses.

"What?" he asked, trailing his hand behind her neck and pushing her head up, giving him room to nuzzle her neck.

"The marriage documents…"

Saitou snapped his head up. "What about them?"

"They weren't approved."

"What?!"

"It seems they did a background check on us…considering how much of a big shot you are now. They found out who I am."

"You mean…as Sokusai?" he said dumbly.

She gave him an appraising look, as if questioning his intelligence. "What else, Saitou?"

Kikome seemed unnaturally calm about the entire scenario, which began to aggravate him.

"Does the news not disturb you?" he asked, controlling his tone.

"Of course it does," she replied serenely, picking up her drink and taking another sip. "After all, I was delayed coming out because a government official came by just when I was about to leave."

"What did he say?"

"I don't know," she answered vaguely.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" he demanded, a tint of annoyance creeping into his voice.

She noticed it, and raised an eyebrow. "Don't get all edgy, Saitou. It'll work out. I meant that I didn't know what he wanted because, as I said, I presumed I was already late, and he kept clamoring for attention. So I ended up locking him in the storage house and coming here after that."

Kikome gave a small laugh. "I wonder how Miyuki-chan will handle that."

Saitou swept her off her feet and headed down the stairs. "We're going home."

Kikome let out a sigh. "Let me down, Saitou, I can walk by myself."

"Knowing you, you'll probably loiter around and find an excuse to _not_ go home. At this rate, I'm going to start thinking that you don't want to marry me at all."

"It's not like that," she insisted as Saitou let her down. "I just—"

"Don't want to do anything extremely intimate yet, right?" Saitou said impatiently, shuffling through the snow. "Kikome, you're what, twenty-six? It's a bit late for you to still be so…iffy."

She gave a snarl but fell silent, matching Saitou's long stride on the way to their residence. It was a stately house, in traditional Japanese style, not particularly large but well-furnished. Saitou pushed open the gate doors and the two of them entered the courtyard.

"Saitou-san, Kikome-san," Miyuki called, coming out into the open.

"Go back inside," Kikome said, taking off her geta at the front steps. "It's chilly out here."

Miyuki nodded and held the door open as the couple entered the living room. A frazzled man sat formally by the kotatsu, shivering slightly. He nodded as he noticed them enter.

"Pardon me for this, Saitou-dono," he said professionally, "but I'd rather not stand up right now, as I'm freezing."

He shot a nasty look at Kikome, who simply returned it with an indifferent smile.

"I'll go get some tea," Miyuki said, disappearing into the kitchen.

"I assume you were sent to discuss the marriage documents?" Saitou said, sitting across from him.

Kikome walked over to a nearby room, leaving Saitou to converse with the official. She was bad when it came to business negotiations; her sharp tongue normally guaranteed failure.

"Yes," he replied. "As you know, the Meiji government respects you very much for your services to this country. However, it can't be ignored that you were once part of the Shinsengumi, and were thus opposing the Ishin Shinshi. Committing to a union with Nato Kikome, better known as Sokusai, would be a radical choice and alarms many of the officials of the government. They're worried that you two combined would lead to something…drastic."

Saitou scoffed. "What a foolish fear. Nato Kikome cares nothing for the government, and I think it's been made pretty clear that I hold Japan's well-being in high regards. Though I don't necessarily approve of all the undertakings of the government, I'm not about to go out of my way and disturb the peace that we already have."

"Besides," Kikome's voice said melodiously, "since when did marriage matter in the eyes of the Meiji government? All I wanted to do was have it down legally; if you're not going to let us be legally bonded, it's not going to change the fact that we're going to be together."

She emerged from the adjacent bedroom, having changed into a simpler kimono and washed off her make-up. The smooth black sheath of her katana was gripped in her hand. She looked gorgeous regardless of the simplicity.

"My apologies for locking you in the storehouse," Kikome said sincerely, "but you must understand that I was angry for such a belated response to our humble request. I'd appreciate it if you'd just approve of it and get out of our lives."

Saitou, who had been pleased with her modest approach to the situation, cringed at her last sentence.

The man turned to her, outraged. "You'd think I'd actually approve of these," he slammed the papers on the table, "after such conceitedness?!"

"Did you bring the stamp for approval or whatever?" Kikome asked evenly.

"Of course, but it's not like I'm going to—"

Kikome unsheathed the katana and brought it to his neck.

"I expected some resistance," she said wryly. "As always, Sokusai works best through force."

"Kikome," Saitou said in a warning tone.

"Oh, shut up. It's not like sitting down and talking is going to help you very much when it comes to a bastard like him. Just sign the papers and I'll let you on your way."

"And if I don't?" the man said defiantly, though his hands trembled as he felt Kikome's murderous _ki_ envelop him.

She gave a venomous smile. "Well, then, I'm sure cutting off a few fingers would change your mind."

Miyuki returned in the room with the tea tray. She stared at the scenario, startled.

"Oh, hello, Miyuki-chan. Just leave the tray on the kotatsu; we'll be finished momentarily."

Saitou let out a sigh and motioned for Miyuki to do as Kikome asked, as well as to leave the room.

"Now, then, Official-san, please be sure to stamp it neatly and clearly for everyone to see, all right?"

"I won't—"

"It's just a shitty marriage report," Kikome snapped, her dark eyes flashing and her hostess-like charm disappearing. "Sign the thing and leave us alone. Splendid plan, no? You'll never see me again, I'll never see you, we're all satisfied. Oh, and by the way, if you decide to send additional officials or an army to our home, please be reminded that I'm quite an experienced assassin and will be more than happy to sneak into your house and persuade you to do so otherwise."

The official man shook in terror, withdrew a seal from his breast pocket and stamped the documents, and without another word, left the room.

Kikome examined the documents with a sigh. "All that effort for a shitty piece of paper. We could've just eloped or something."

"Your language has taken a turn for the worse lately," Saitou said, standing up and leading her to the bedroom. "Well, we're married now. You know what we do next, right?"

Kikome eyed him warily, backing into the room. "You're starving, aren't you?"

"Yes, in the metaphorical sense."

"Eh…but…Miyuki might be coming back…"

"She'll understand once she sees the papers." Saitou shut the door behind him, welcoming the cool darkness.

"Hah," she laughed weakly. "I guess I really can't get out of this one."

"I'm afraid not," Saitou said smoothly, slipping his hands under her robes. "I'm really famished. I patiently waited for you to come to your senses, and then waited out your condition, so it's only natural that you reciprocate."

He kissed her fervently and pushed her on the bed, delighted that she made no effort to resist. She seemed to understand his needs, wrapping her arms around him and expressing the warmth that they shared.

The night past as no words were exchanged; only raw emotions and intensified passion were conveyed. The moonlight shone through the bright sheets of snow as the wolf satiated his hunger at last.

*************

The morning arrived dully with the gray overcast skies and the constant snow. Kikome stirred in her half-asleep state and snapped her eyes open. It took a few seconds to register what she was doing.

"You're finally awake?" Saitou smirked.

She remembered that she was unclad and hastily pulled the blankets over her.

He raised an eyebrow. "You don't need to hide, you know. I mean, I've seen everything already."

"Asshole," she said, flaring.

He kissed her gently on the forehead.

"I'm feeling…extremely satisfied," he commented. His eyes shimmered like golden ingots. He was pleased.

"Good. Then let's not do it again." She sat up and leaned for her clothes.

"Are you kidding me?" Saitou pulled her back beside him. "It would be problematic if you're still so disinclined. Besides, you didn't seem so reluctant last night…"

"Shut up," she said, blushing crimson and struggling away.

"You don't need to be so embarrassed," he said softly, stroking her skin. "I don't know how many times people have told you, but you're one of the loveliest women in Japan, guaranteed."

"That's not stopping me from being embarrassed, Saitou."

"Hm…" Saitou mused aloud. "Isn't about time you stopped calling me by my surname? After all, it's technically yours as well."

"No offense, but I'll pass."

"I thought you'd say that. All the same, it'd be odd if you kept calling me Saitou."

"It'd be even odder if I called you by your first name," Kikome said feverishly, finally getting out of bed and dressing herself. "The habit of calling you Saitou isn't going to change, considering I've been calling you that for the last eleven years."

She heard him let out a breath and also stand up.

"When do you start your job as the awesome head of Internal Affairs?" Kikome asked with dripping sarcasm.

"It's not very important," Saitou said. "I can probably wait for a few weeks. In the meantime, what will you do? You're not the domestic type, after all."

"I don't know. Work with you, maybe? Though I'd hate it…"

"That'd probably be best. Tying you to me would keep other men's eyes off of you."

She scoffed. "As if I'd care either way. I was thinking, if you have a few days for break, let's go to Kyoto to pay our respects to Shishou. I should let him know that I'm well-recovered."

"Just to see Hiko? Or would you want to go see Shinomori Aoshi as well?"

"Give me a break, Saitou."

He chuckled behind her and led the way out.

"Regarding Kyoto, we'll leave today?"

"That's fine."

Decisions were made so spontaneously when it came to being with Saitou. Life could never be boring with him around.

Their fingers intertwined as they walked out for breakfast, fitting perfectly together like pieces of a puzzle, as if their hands were made simply for the other to hold.

*************

Four years later, Kyoto

"All right, men," Chou said loudly over the bustling office. Activity stopped momentarily as the others paused to listen to him.

"The name's Chou, and I'm working as Saitou's representative. He's going to be your boss. He's coming in a few hours, since the transfer from Hokkaido's going to take a while, and so he sent me ahead to oversee the changes. So I'm just going to set a few rules for standards."

"First, Saitou's a strict guy and a demanding boss. Prepared to be overworked. And don't you dare complain, because he'll kill you if you do. And it's not like he doesn't work or anything," Chou added hastily, emphasizing that he wasn't badmouthing his boss, "it's just that he works so much, he expects everyone else to do the same."

"Second, and this is a definite, unarguable rule. Do. Not. Hit. On. His. Wife."

Snickers and coughs filled the room. Chou rolled his eyes. This happened every single time he introduced the Saitou couple somewhere.

"I'm not kidding, guys."

"Who'd want to hit on the boss's wife?!" someone jeered from the group. "She's probably just some old woman who stays at home at cooks all day. Nothin' worth lookin' at."

Chou just shrugged. "It's your own skin."

The morning and early afternoon passed without much incident. The subordinates were loud and boisterous, but Saitou would set them straight once he arrived. As the sun began to set, Chou heard raised voices outside the building.

"Takarai, if you keep following me, I swear I'll end up killing you!" a female voice said, more than annoyed.

"Ah, but dear Kikome-san—"

"Don't talk to me as if you're so familiar!"

The door banged open as Nato Kikome strode into the room, a young man straggling behind her.

"Chou!" she called out angrily.

"Then, Nato-san, I don't understand!" Takarai said pleadingly. "You've been in Kyoto by yourself for three months already, and you haven't seen Saitou-san! Surely there are _problems_ between you two right now? If so, I'm more than welcome to—"

"We're not having problems!" she snapped, whipping her head around. "Now please leave me alone, or I'll seriously arrest you for incessant annoying behavior and stalking!"

"But—"

Chou decided it was appropriate to intervene.

"Hey, you, please leave the room. Nato Kikome has every right to arrest you, and if she does, there'll be a lengthy prosecution and case. So for your own sake, go away."

"But—"

Kikome whirled around and kicked him in the stomach, the force somewhat diminished because her yukata, but effective nevertheless. Taking advantage of his sudden surprise, she grabbed Takarai by the collar and shoved him out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Kikome let out a string of curses and finally turned to Chou, ignoring the stares of the onlookers.

"Is he here yet?" she asked, forcing herself to calm down.

Chou understood who she meant.

"No…he called in and said that the move's going to take a little while…it's going to be another hour or so."

Chou caught sight of a flicker of pain in her eyes, disappearing as soon as it came.

"I see," she said slowly.

"Why'd you come so early ahead of him anyway? Three months?"

"I came here with Rin to go ahead and establish living here, and to introduce her to my Shishou if she wants to learn Hiten."

"Three's a little young to be playing with a sword…"

Kikome shrugged. "It's just to get her used to Shishou. With a profile like his, it's hard to get accustomed to his presence unless you're really used to him being around."

"All the same, three months is still really early. You and Saitou aren't really having any problems, right?"

"…I got tired of him working so much. Rin's still so young, so it's just awkward to not have him around," Kikome heaved a sigh. "We're just not really cut out to be fantastic parents, honestly. Our personalities are both too prideful."

"Nah, I'm sure you take care of Rin-chan just fine. And after you guys move here, Saitou's going to have more people work under him, so he can spend more time with you. No need to get all stressed out, y'know?"

Kikome gave a wry smile. "Yeah, once he gets here, maybe I can just get those suitors off my back. They don't seem to believe me when I say I'm married."

"Well," Chou jerked his hand back to the ogling bystanders, "they probably won't either. Honestly though, you don't look like you've aged at all over the last four years."

Chou wasn't lying. Nato Kikome still looking like she was in the prime of her youth, her structure and figure willowy and fit. She was tall for a woman, having the characteristics of a model, and the pulchritude of the most beautiful woman. It wasn't hard to believe that everyone thought she was single. Nato Kikome had begun wearing a silver band on her ring finger just to symbolize that she was, but no one really seemed against the prospect of an affair.

"I heard you've been helping out the police here. Can't sit still, can you?"

"If I did, my skills would rust."

"I doubt that. You've always been on par with Saitou."

She laughed slightly, then turned to glance at the clock. Her crimson lips parted in a sad smile.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other. I think I'll just wait until he arrives then."

*************

Kikome sat at what would soon be Saitou's desk and waited. The clock ticked by incessantly as she disregarded the gazes of the other men in the room. She remained as still as a statue for Saitou to return.

The last three months had been lonely, no doubt. Rin was a blessing, but not being with Saitou was like not having the ending piece to a puzzle. Given, Saitou was busy, and didn't really come home except late at night, and left quite early in the morning; days went by when Saitou never got to see Rin except when she was sleeping. Kikome had left for Kyoto earlier because Rin was starting to question whether Saitou really cared for her. Using Shishou as a distraction was a good idea; it was an excuse to give her and Saitou a break from each other.

Saitou's relatively distant attitude with Rin was understandable. He wasn't a man rich in emotions, and having a daughter was nothing short of awkward. Nevertheless, Kikome felt disappointed. She hadn't expected to be able to love her daughter so much, but her motherly instinct must have prevailed against her otherwise firm grasp over her emotions. Seeing Saitou not do the same was disturbing, since Kikome wanted to give her daughter the family ties that she herself had lived without.

Aside from that, however, Kikome had been, in essence, happy. The four years, minus the last three months, had been ones of serenity and peace. Kikome spent her time taking care of Rin, but was hardly the housewife. Oftentimes, she left Rin with Miyuki and spent her evenings looking at the wanted list of criminals, purging the ones she deemed problematic. Sokusai never disappeared, and Kikome, and Saitou, never minded. Saitou was pleased with her involvement in he thought was "Aku, Soku, Zan," but Kikome viewed her ventures as nothing less than a way to alleviate her boredom.

Saitou had really made her whole and satisfied. Kikome stroked the smooth, silver band around her finger. It was an extremely plain ring, no jewels, no intricacy, but it fit her just fine. Simply a way to declare that she was taken, to shake off the irritating suitors who seemed adamant that she could be promiscuous.

The door creaked open, interrupting Kikome's thoughts, and a small figure peered over the edge of the door.

"Rin," Kikome said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Rin waddled up to Kikome. She had inherited most of Kikome's looks, with her ebony hair and rather attractive looks. It was easy to see that she was a comely child who would grow up to be a beauty. Saitou's eyes became his daughter's, though. The liquid gold that never ceased to send chills down Kikome's spine seemed out of place against the rest of her daughter's cute features.

"Okaa-san," Rin said, her diction becoming clearer every time Kikome heard it. She was frowning, and it seemed her eyes were red from crying.

"Rin-chan," Kikome said, worried, picking Rin up. She was getting heavy. "Were you crying? Isn't Shishou with you?"

"We got separated."

"Eh?" Kikome looked up at the door. "Then who—"

A familiar figure appeared in the doorway. Innocent smile, winking eyes.

"Soujirou-nii-san helped me," Rin said, wiping her eyes.

"Soujirou-san!" Kikome exclaimed.

"Hey, Kikome-nee-san."

Kikome broke into a smile. "It's been so long! How come you're back in Kyoto?"

"It was about time that I got tired of wandering. I don't know how Himura-san did it for ten years, but four was enough for me. I came back to Kyoto a few days ago, and found Rin-chan crying when I was strolling around. To think that she's your kid! Such a coincidence."

"Coincidence, indeed," Kikome agreed, laughing. "Rin, did you say thank you?"

Rin hiccupped. "Thank you, Nii-san."

"So you're back for good then, Soujirou?" Kikome asked.

"I think so. I don't know what I'll be doing though."

"Stay with us," Kikome said encouragingly. "You can just settle at our house and decide from there."

"But I wouldn't want to impose on you…"

"Stop kidding around. We're family." Kikome scanned the room outside, noticing that it had basically been emptied.

"Speaking of family," Soujirou said in conjured indifference, "who's your husband?"

"He's—"

The door flew open as two figures came barging into the room. Shishou, followed by Miyuki, skidded to a halt in front of Kikome.

"Rin, you were here?!" Shishou said, half annoyed, half relieved.

"Rin-chan, don't run away from Hiko-san," Miyuki said reprovingly.

"Eh?" Soujirou said, pointing a finger at Shishou. "He's your husband?!"

Kikome stared at him in incredulity. "He's my teacher."

"Oh. Really?!"

"Deceived by my wonderful looks, no doubt," Hiko said arrogantly, flipping his hair. "Now, for this little girl…"

He approached Kikome and hit Rin lightly on the head. Kikome lurched away protectively.

"Shishou!" she said in disapproval as tears started welling up in Rin's golden eyes.

"It didn't hurt!" he said indignantly. "That's how you were raised, and you grew up fine! Rin is a bit spoiled, if you ask me. She's three, and you're still carrying her around?"

Kikome rolled her eyes. "Hey, she's my kid. Let me raise her."

"I don't teach Hiten to spoiled brats."

"Then I'll teach her."

"Then she'll be a terrible swordswoman."

"Then I'll get her father to." Kikome looked anxiously at the clock. Where was he? Chou had left ages ago, saying that he would be here in an hour. It was already six.

"Speaking of her father," Soujirou said with unfeigned curiosity, "who is it—"

There was the sound of the carriage stopping and the door creaking open. Kikome caught the sound of a low bass timbre, a soothing voice that she hadn't heard in so long. Saitou entered the room, looking as handsome as ever, and smoking, like always. His shimmering eyes lit up in surprise at the group.

"Ah," Soujirou said in understanding after a moment's silence. "So that's where Rin-chan got her eyes."

"Otou-san!" Rin said happily, slipping out of Kikome's arms and running to Saitou.

"Rin," Kikome said hesitatingly, not knowing how Saitou would react.

He bent down and patted Rin gently on the head. "I hope you didn't cause your mother any trouble."

Rin shook her head fervently. "No! I've been good!"

Saitou gave a smirk. "Good girl."

He straightened up, nodded to Hiko in greeting, and turned to address Soujirou. "To think that Japan's number one wanted man would actually come willingly into a police station."

Soujirou laughed nervously. "Eh…you're not going to arrest me, are you?"

"…I should."

"Kikome-san, it might not be a good idea to stay at your home after all…"

"No, it's fine," Kikome said firmly, avoiding Saitou's probing eyes. "We'll just go back together, since it's about time for dinner…Miyuki, I'll help you prepare some extra since we'll be having guests…"

"Oh, no, Kikome-san, it's fine. I was anticipating for Hiko-san to have an enormous appetite, so I made some extra."

Hiko snorted. "Well, let's head back already. I'm starving."

"You guys go on ahead. I've got to finish a few things here first." Saitou's golden orbs never left Kikome's face. She shifted nervously on her feet, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"Otou-san!" Rin wailed. "Don't go to work again!"

"I'll be back in a few moments, Rin."

"Promise?"

Saitou rolled his eyes. "Yes."

Rin scrutinized her idolized father, and seemed satisfied with his promise. Kikome wasn't. His deepening stare agitated her, and her heartbeat quickened just knowing he was there.

She attempted to walk past him. "Then, we'll just leave first—"

Saitou grabbed her by the shoulder and held her back. "No, you're staying with me."

"I—"

"We'll leave you two alone, then," Hiko interrupted, hoisting Rin over his shoulder and beckoning for Miyuki and Soujirou to follow him. "Hurry up."

"Wait, Shishou, don't drop her—"

The door slammed shut before the sentence left her lips.

"He's going to drop her," she said in foreboding.

"He's not that rash," Saitou said, dousing his cigarette.

Kikome became increasingly conscious of his presence. They were facing opposite walls, neither of them knowing what to say as the impending silence lingered on.

"Kikome…" Saitou finally said.

"What is it?" she asked brusquely and immediately regretting her tone.

"Why did you leave so suddenly?"

"The move was already decided by then. I…was just getting a head start, so Rin could meet Shishou and…"

Saitou grabbed her from behind and embraced her tightly. Kikome inhaled the nostalgic smoky scent, and the longing to hold him burned fiercer in her chest. She resisted, her pride refusing to let her give in after faking nonchalance.

Saitou's hold on her tightened with one arm as he used the other to push back her hair, exposing the back of her neck to him. He kissed it softly, slowly trailing his lips down her spine. Her resolution immediately weakened.

"Saitou, don't—"

He picked her up and sat her down on the desk, kissing her passionately, gripping her nape tightly to ensure that she couldn't break away. Kikome reacted instinctively, reaching out for him and drawing him closer, yearning for his touch and warmth. It was his extremely fervent, seductive way of kissing, the way he kissed her when he needed to convince her of something, or when he simply needed to communicate the unspeakable.

She was gasping for air when he finished. Saitou touched her flushed cheek, stroking her skin.

"I know why you left," he breathed, his golden eyes drawing her in.

"Is…that so?" she said quietly.

"I…have my reasons for my reservation towards Rin. It's not that I don't care for her. I do."

"I know."

"It's just…I can't love her the same way I love you. The impassioned, ardent love that I hold for you…it can't be the same."

"It's not supposed to be, you idiot," Kikome said chidingly. "I just want you to be there for her. She adores you, Hajime."

He gave a wolfish smirk as he heard her say his name. "It's been a while since I've heard you say that."

Saitou kissed her again, gently. "I'll be home more often now."

"Good."

"Is that Seta kid seriously living with us?"

"Why not? He's family. Don't arrest him."

"Fine, fine. How'd he find you?"

"He found Rin, who was lost, in the middle of a Kyoto crowd. Coincidental, no?"

"Indeed."

Saitou held her tightly to him, not caring about the pointless conversation they made.

"You have me wrapped around your little finger," he murmured in her ear. "Japan, my life…I'd throw everything away to follow you."

Kikome gripped his back securely, resting her head against his chest.

"To the depths of hell?"

"To wherever fate leads us."

Kikome smiled as she lost herself in his arms. With him, she was complete. With him, nothing mattered. Her family, Rin, Miyuki, Shishou, Soujirou, they were waiting back home. But for the moment, she needed nothing. Nothing but Saitou.

As his lips touched hers again, her thoughts halted in spiral of her fate.

Let the web unwind. Let fate stop. She was there, should've been there, in the beginning, and now was, in the end. Her story was told, her destiny found.

The tangled web of fate was unraveled.

*************

"There is no such thing as coincidence. There is only hitsuzen."

**--Yuuko, xxxHolic**

Tangled Web of Fate: End.


	38. A Note from the Author

**A Short Word of Thanks from the Author **

It's finished. I am more sad than happy, actually. I really can't believe I'm done with it.

First of all, thank you so much for reading. Your support really kept me going, and I know I've probably said this a million times, but I really really really appreciate it. Had it not been for those of you who commented and provided input, I would've halted this story a long time ago…and by that I think I mean about three years.

When I first wrote Legends of the Age, I didn't have a firm grasp on exact style, nor did I have a good image of what Kikome was really like. For those of you who didn't like Legends that much, I'd have to say that if I could, I would redo it completely. However, as I've said before, the entire story was planned out in my head after I finished RuroKen. The more in depth the actual manga went, the more in depth my tale went, and so the ten years ago arc was more of a simulation than anything else. Nevertheless, I enjoyed Legends of the Age. It was my original plotline, and the development of Sokusai occurred more in LOTA than in anything else.

Tangled Web of Fate, instead of the creation of Sokusai, focused more on the overwhelming combating forces inside of Kikome, the womanly instinct asserting itself or the pride of Sokusai winning instead. Ultimately, Sokusai did not and could not be destroyed, and in the end triumphed. Kikome, at the very end of the tale, learned to have her instincts coexist, the feminine emotions to simply complement the overbearing but appreciated position of Sokusai. Kikome's personality is somewhat volatile and complex; nevertheless, I really enjoyed her being my protagonist.

I know some of you might have supported Kikome and Aoshi instead.

I'm very sorry.

When I first read RuroKen, Aoshi was my favorite, hands-down. Until Saitou came along. And then the more I read it, the more I found Saitou to be a tangible character, sinfully arrogant and cold. Compared to Aoshi (who in the end did nothing but meditate), Saitou was more active, and consequently a better character (in my humble opinion.) Kikome really could match with no one but him. Aoshi invited to a life of peace and quiet, with no action. Basically, if Kikome really did go with Aoshi to Kyoto, she'd be nothing more than an innkeeper's wife, which just did not suit her disposition.

I also altered Aoshi's personality a bit. One of my readers told me that Aoshi seemed sort of…insane? Well, in a sense, in the manga, he was. I mean, he just became somewhat of an oddball in the end. (I'm just kidding, I love Aoshi very much.) I simply heightened his insanity to extend to his situation with Kikome as well. My interpretation of Aoshi was more of a sarcastic, condescending type. He smirked more, challenged Kikome's weakness, and basically went all out when he fought her. In the end, however, they reconciled, and though some people probably wanted Kikome/Saitou to completely destroy him, I felt like a happy ending was best.

I honestly could've continued the story for a little longer, detracting from the plotline, of course. (I liked the Enishi arc, but not enough to formulate a good plot for Kikome. Enishi had too much of a sister-complex for my liking.) This is going to sound weird, but I was planning on bringing Tokio in, until a close reader (who happens to live with me) adamantly refused and said it was the most terrible idea in the world, and thus I stopped. Oh well. It wasn't going to be a very long arc anyway.

I was also considering ending the series on a very depressing note. Kikome could have a.) died in Shishio's headquarters, having been betrayed by Aoshi, and thus thinking that Souzou was really the only one for her, or b.) died ten years after her marriage to Saitou, with the wounds of her past finally catching up to her. The latter plot almost made it. (I actually typed up half of it a long time ago when I needed a change of pace.) But then, I remembered that I hate sad endings. Tragedy manga can be really stupid. (I.E. Nana. Why would you kill off Ren? It made no sense. Or now, Naruto should be classified under tragedy, because every character worthwhile has died.) So I went for the happy ending, and hopefully it turned out well.

Honestly, I would redo a lot of the scenes and dialogue in this story. But I'm too lazy to do so, and I'm actually pretty satisfied with the end.

In the earlier version of this note, I forgot to note something, so I'll go ahead and say it here. It's about Rin! Because I hate making up names, I Googled Japanese names and their meanings to find one. (Lame, I know, but hey, it got me through. Kikome's name was created, stupidly enough, by my infatuation with the InuYasha series like…five years ago. I seriously regret that.) Rin's meaning is "cold" and "dignified." She would grow up to be much like that.

Her personality would be a balance between Saitou's and Kikome's. Like Kikome, she'd grow up to be very attractive, and like both of her parents, very haughty. Hiko would teach her Hiten Mitsurugi, alongside Himura Kenji, and like Kikome before her, Rin would be stronger. However, Hiko already noted that Rin was spoiled; in the future, I'd plan for her to be more conceited than both of her parents, and really quite strong. However, unlike Kikome, she'd hold no appreciation for her strength and would be rash in using it. She'd take after Saitou more than Kikome, since she idolizes Saitou, and would also favor her father's Gatotsu over Hiten, preferring a straight-forward, non-complex attack. However, Rin would utilize Shinsoku to the ability that her Gatotsu would eventually trump Saitou's. Of course, I was unable to write that chapter, so I thought I'd let you guys know what Rin would eventually become. I'm not sure about a relationship between Kenji and Rin though…Kenji is sort of an introverted character who hates his dad. And I like Kenshin, so I'm not too fond of his son.

Please comment back and tell me your input! I'd love to hear.

Again, thank you for everything! I don't know if I'll be doing another fanfic, and if I do, it's probably not going to be RuroKen. So I will now close up the story of Nato Sokusai, and leave her stage with a bow.

Thank you.


	39. Ten Years Later

**Ten years later**

"Rin-chan!" Miyuki's voice broke into the air.

Rin opened her golden eyes, annoyed. Just when she almost fell asleep too…it was so easy to fall asleep by the courtyard, with the chirping birds and warm sunbeams shining down. She didn't know why her mother enjoyed the moon so much. The sun was much more useful.

The soft pattering of Miyuki's feet suddenly stopped in front of her.

"Rin-chan, why are you dressed like that again?!" she wailed. "I dolled you up so nicely…"

Rin rolled her eyes. Her male apparel always annoyed the maid. "Miyuki, I'm not like my mother, I don't like wearing yukata. They're so hard to move in!"

"Your mother doesn't like them either," another voice said easily. Soujirou came into view, his winking eyes the same as always, his expression unreadable. "She's just gotten used to looking like a woman."

Rin frowned. "Soujirou-sensei, why are you here? I thought you were at work with Okaa-san and Otou-san."

"Nee-chan said I was useless and told me to come home and train you instead."

She grimaced. "I don't want to. Besides, I'm much faster than Kenji, and that's all that matters."

"Rin, you're way too arrogant for your own good." Hiko arrived in the courtyard, dragging his red-haired apprentice behind him. "But seriously, Kenji, you're a useless brat, how can you let a girl beat you that easily? Even Kenshin put up more of a fight against Kikome."

"Shishou!" Rin skipped down the stairs and bowed eagerly to him.

"Rin, learn to control that mouth of yours. I'm done with training you two today; save an old man his strength, would you?"

Hiko, always exaggerating. Like he looked old at all…though he was already in his late fifties, he didn't look any older than thirty. So freaky.

"That isn't fair," Rin pouted, her pink lips curling up in a frown. "Just because Kenji's stupid and needs more time to learn all the techniques, you spend so much more time with him! What about me?!"

"Shut up, stupid Rin," Kenji snapped.

"You shut up. I'm not the one taking a million years learning Ryu Tsui Sen."

"Both of you, shut up," Hiko ordered as Kenji opened his mouth to reply. "Besides, Rin, you have Soujirou to teach you Shukuchi, don't you?"

"She's really bad at it," Soujirou said teasingly, sitting down beside Miyuki, who blushed. Rin rolled her eyes at the maid; her infatuation with Soujirou was so obvious.

"Your mother was much better at learning it," Soujirou continued. "No one taught her or anything. It was incredible."

"Yeah, except Okaa-san pretty much can't fight at all anymore," Rin said bitterly.

Hiko cuffed her across the head. "I told you to watch your mouth, RIn."

"This is so stupid. Why is everyone always comparing me to my mother? She's not that great," Rin said angrily. "Otou-san's much stronger."

"Yes, yes, Otou-san is much stronger," a melodious voice said from the gateway. The gate creaked open as Rin jealously watched her beautiful mother enter the courtyard.

"Rin, Rin, Rin," Kikome sighed. "It really hurts to see you view me with such animosity, you know."

Kikome's crimson lips parted in a playful smile, her coal black eyes as inscrutable as Soujirou's smile. Her beauty was unrivaled among the mothers in the area. Days never passed where Kikome wasn't asked on a date or stroll. A foreigner even had the gall to ask her to accompany him to Europe to model for him. Otou-san had been furious. Still, Kikome's pulchritude was unparalleled, and it seemed that even old age couldn't diminish it.

"Okaa-san," Rin said respectfully. "Hello."

Kikome simply sighed at the stiff greeting and turned to the others.

"Why are you all gathered here? Shishou, you don't have to train these kids every day, you know. At this rate, you'll kick the bucket in a matter of days. And you know how devastating it would be for the world to lose such a genius."

"You really know how to flatter people."

"It's a result of going to those nonsense social gatherings," Kikome answered dryly. "Goodness, I really wouldn't go, but the last time I skipped one, Chou-san told me that three women ended up trying to get Saitou."

"It's been what, fourteen years of marriage and you still call your husband by his surname?" Soujirou laughed. "Nee-chan, you're too prim."

"I'd called him by his surname for the eleven years before we got married, all right? It's hard to break such a habit. Besides, hardly anyone calls him by his first name, it's always just Saitou, Saitou." Kikome sat down beside Rin and patted her head. "You're not lonely, are you, Rin-chan?"

"Give me a break, Okaa-san."

"Fine, fine." Rin caught a glimpse of sadness in her mother's eyes. "Rin, what can Okaa-san do to make you not hate her?"

"It's not that I hate you," Rin said stiffly. "It's just that I'm always compared to you, and I don't think you're that amazing."

"I don't either," Kenji piped up. "My Okaa-san always says that Otou-san is better. And she said that you sustained some injuries that have made you useless."

Kikome smiled beautifully. "As good of friends that your father and I am, Kenji, I'm not going to have any qualms about throwing you out in the streets the next time your tongue slips in such a condescending demeanor again."

Rin shuddered as she sensed her mother's always well-controlled _ki_ expand in the slightest.

"Do you understand me," Kikome said with the same beautiful smile, "Kenji?"

"Y-yes, ma'am."

"Make sure that doesn't happen again."

And suddenly Kikome reverted back to the same easy-going personality as before.

"I don't particularly mind that you don't think I'm amazing," she said in reply to Rin's comment. "But you're being foolish for not listening to your teachers and not following instructions. If they say that you're nothing compared to me from back then, then shouldn't you try to find out how you differ?"

"Then give me an example," Rin demanded. "Show me, Okaa-san. Because as of now, I hardly have any respect for you."

"Rin," Hiko said, annoyed.

"Don't look at me like that, Shishou," Rin snapped. "Everyone knows that Okaa-san was your favorite student, after all."

"Well, at least she hasn't started calling by my name, yet," Kikome said wryly, standing up and dusting her yukata off. "Oh dear, I may really be losing my dignity in front of these children. Miyuki-chan, could you please go get my katana? I think these kids are a bit out of line."

"You're…not going to hurt them, are you, Kikome-san?" Miyuki said nervously.

"Of course not. Just a little demonstration." As Miyuki disappeared down the hallway, Kikome beckoned to her daughter. "Come, Rin, stand up. One-point match."

Rin scoffed arrogantly. "No offense, Okaa-san, but I'm pretty confident in my abilities. You might want to draw it out a little longer, since you're in a yukata and all, and your skills probably have rusted."

Kikome simply shook her head. "Good thing your father isn't here…he'd be furious if he heard you. Do you doubt me that much, Rin?"

"Frankly, yes."

"Then I'll make another concession. I won't move my feet. So you'll be free to attack as you like, all right?"

Rin shouldered her katana and stood up. Her parents were always against using a shinai, believing that the wooden blades were inefficient and harbored no risk of harm; students couldn't be taught without that risk. That was probably the reason why Kenji was terrible, learning with his mother and the shinai for so long, and then finally switching over to the katana.

Miyuki reappeared with Kikome's sword.

"Ah, thank you, Miyuki. Just throw it."

"Eh? But…"

"Ah, you too, Miyuki? Don't worry, I'll catch it."

Miyuki threw the sword, and the throw was weak. Surely it was going to fall to the ground…such a shame, the hilt would be dented.

Rin blinked. Kikome caught the sword effortlessly. But she hadn't seen her move at all! Even the slightest rustle of clothing couldn't be heard in the transition. She heard Soujirou and Hiko mutter something behind her. RIn whirled around.

"What?" she demanded.

"Nothing," Hiko said lazily. "We're just betting on how long the match will take."

"One second," Soujirou said cheerfully. "No, more like however long it takes for Rin to attack."

"Half a second," Hiko said confidently. "Ten sen, Soujirou?"

"Sure."

"Wait, you're betting I'll lose?!" Rin said in fury.

"What, you expected otherwise?" Hiko replied, an eyebrow raised. "Did you see your mother move at all in that one motion? That's what I've been telling you this entire time, Rin. Move like water, swift and in ripples that the eye cannot see."

"But that doesn't make any sense!"

"And you're just being obstinate."

"Rin, dear," Kikome called. "Do hurry up! It's stifling in this yukata."

Rin turned around and readied herself. She'd prove her worth. Stupid Shishou, stupid Soujrou…she snuck a glance at Kenji. He was watching them indifferently, then caught Rin's eye and grinned foolishly.

"Rin, if you win, I'll treat you to dinner," he grinned.

"Shut up, who wants your treat?"

"Rin, if you're not coming, I'm going," Kikome said wearily. "You're taking too long…maybe this isn't worth it."

Rin flew at her, her silver blade gleaming in the sunlight. Her Shinsoku was much better than Kenji's, and she was proud of her speed. Her mother couldn't possible catch her from behind, especially since she couldn't move at all.

Rin swung her blade at her mother's neck. She hadn't sensed her, there was no way…

Kikome's slender fingers caught her sword with ease in between her index and third fingers.

"My, my," she mused, "my cute daughter must really hate me. That move was full of killing intent. Not very nice, Rin-chan."

"How—"

Kikome pivoted around and brought her sheathed sword to Rin's neck.

"One point, Rin," she smiled. "Don't underestimate your Okaa-san anymore, all right?"

She removed her hand and let go of Rin's blade, yawning.

"Thank you, Miyuki-chan, but it looks like I didn't really need it…" Kikome twirled the katana expertly over in her hand. "Oh well. I'm going to put this back up. Miyuki-chan, can you go get some tea? We can all drink it out here."

"Sure."

Rin scowled as her elegant mother's profile disappeared into her bedroom.

"This isn't fair," she said.

"Of course it is," Soujirou said. "You asked for a demonstration, she gave it to you. It's all because you kids are so impertinent."

"But it doesn't make any sense. Okaa-san _never_ trains. Surely, even if she was refined back then, her skills have deteriorated—"

"And that's where you're lying," Hiko interrupted. "What do you think your mother does at work? She fights everyday, or else she'd be bored to death. You're really underestimating your mother, Rin. You too, Kenji."

Kenji rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'll be better than her in no time."

"Beat Rin first before you strive to higher aspirations."

"Oh, Hiko-san, was that one second or half a second? I couldn't tell."

"Half a second. You owe me ten sen."

"You couldn't tell either. You just want the money."

"Be more lenient with me, eh? I'm an old man. Go treat me to some sake."

"You'll die if you drink anymore."

"And Seta speaks the truth," the silky voice of Rin's father said as he pushed open the gate.

"Otou-san!" Rin said happily.

"Rin," Saitou greeted, ruffling her hair. "Have you been training well?"

"Nothing like her mother," Soujirou said with playful lamentation. "Where'd Nee-chan's prodigious skill get passed on to?"

"You exaggerate," Saitou said, sitting down beside him. "Rin's quite accomplished with Gatotsu."

"Only because it's an easy, straight-forward attack that's not hard to master at all," Kikome's voice said teasingly behind him.

"And Kikome, you never beat it once."

"We never really fought," she replied lightly, sitting beside her husband. Rin watched jealously. Kikome was so perfect in every sense. Genius at swordplay, beautiful, clever…no wonder Otou-san approved of her every aspect.

"Rin, come here," Kikome said.

She moved obediently to her mother's side and sat.

"Do stop being so stiff, all right?" Kikome said, whacking her back lightly. "You're going to make me keel over with sadness one day."

"Rin," Saitou said, "what'd you do?"

"Nothing," she answered with difficulty.

"You made your mother angry…" Rin could sense the latent anger hidden in Saitou's voice and winced.

"It's nothing, Saitou," Kikome intervened, patting Rin on the head. "Rin's just having some trouble with her training. I think she just prefers you teaching her."

"I can't do that all the time," Saitou said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. Rin saw her mother's red lips turn into a frown at the sight of the cigarette. Always the worrywart about Saitou's health. "Rin, you have two perfectly fine teachers with you…learning with them can make learning from me easier."

"I understand," Rin said in compliance. "I'll work harder."

Kikome smiled encouragingly at Rin as Miyuki returned with the tea. Cheerful chatter settled over the group, as Kenji spoke animatedly with Hiko about swordplay, Soujirou and Miyuki began to converse, and Rin engaged in conversation with her idolized father. Her mother simply sipped her tea, her onyx eyes watching all of them peacefully.

"Something wrong, Kikome?" Saitou said, noticing her silence.

"No," she replied with a smile, "not at all."

Rin suddenly realized that her silence was to help her instigate a conversation with her father. Now that she realized it, she thought back to all the times where dinner had passed by with Kikome sitting silently by the two of them as they discussed techniques, swordplay, or even politics. Okaa-san had always been helping her.

"Sorry, Okaa-san," Rin said remorsefully.

"About what, Rin?" she said innocently, winking slyly.

Rin grinned. "Never mind."

Saitou looked quizzically between the two, but couldn't discern anything from Kikome's innocent expression.

"This better not be anything about me," he smirked.

"Of course not," Kikome replied, drinking her tea.

Rin watched appreciatively, feeling her respect for her mother grow. No wonder everyone liked her…she was considerate, smart, beautiful…

A voice in her head spoke softly. _You'll be like her one day. Strive for it._

Rin grinned secretly as she listened. She'd found a new goal.

*************

Kikome opened the blinds in her bedroom a bit, letting the moonbeams shine onto the floor.

"You always like doing that," Saitou said from behind, surprising her. "I can't complain though. You look even more gorgeous under the moonlight."

Kikome scoffed. "Don't say that…I'm getting old."

Saitou's lips touched hers briefly, coaxingly, as he took her in his arms.

"You must be joking," he whispered, his hands untying her obi. "You don't hear what the men at the office say about you."

"Oh, perverted things as always?" she said acidly. "I suppose you join in, don't you?"

Saitou's golden eyes glinted playfully. "Occasionally, of course."

Kikome's reply was cut off with another fervent kiss. Saitou pushed her on the bed, his hands gliding over her skin.

"You're as sensitive now as you were fourteen years ago," Saitou remarked as she shivered, sliding his hands up her back. "I'd expect you to get used to it by now."

"Sorry," she said sarcastically, pulling him closer and rolling on top of him. "But last time I checked, that was a good thing."

"Of course," he murmured as she kissed him. "What were you and Rin being so secretive about today?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie."

"Just women's talk, Saitou."

He draped his arms over her neck and trapped her in his embrace.

"We're alone now," he muttered. "You can afford to call me by my name, right?"

Kikome felt her heart pound unbearably as his mouth closed over hers seductively. She was gasping for breath in between his kisses, completely lost to his will.

"Say it," he said.

She returned his embrace tightly as she inhaled his scent and the sweet taste of his lips.

"Hajime."

Fourteen years of marriage. Her love had not diminished in all that time, and she believed his hadn't either.

The moon shone brightly in their bedroom. Once Sokusai, always Sokusai. She looked best under the moonlight.

**Free Talk**

So I couldn't resist writing another "future" chapter. Maybe I'll add on, maybe not. Hopefully you'll like it! Thanks for reading, as always.


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